


Unspeakables (but he won't shut up)

by Wonderfulworld



Series: Unspeakables [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little angst, Awkward Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Draco Malfoy is a Flirt, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, He's just a confused simp, Idiots in Love, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, She's also a bit confused, can i make it anymore obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderfulworld/pseuds/Wonderfulworld
Summary: “Draco Malfoy, the blonde git.” Harry looked at her seriously. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”The memory of Draco shifting her legs apart on his desk as he undid his belt buckle with his free hand shot to the front of her mind and she shook it away.“No. Of course not. Nothing comes to mind.”Draco struggles with memories whilst Hermione struggles with feelings.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Unspeakables [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103528
Comments: 109
Kudos: 456
Collections: The Dramione Collection





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Lighthearted fic, shouldn't be too long xx I should stop making promises like that

The Ministry Of Magic, after its somewhat controversial positioning before and during the second wizarding war, had developed a range of programmes and events to encourage interdepartmental relationships and a better, more stable, trust with the wizarding public. Their leaning towards authoritarian leadership meant that whilst these events were widely considered popular, they were also mandatory. Hermione Granger had been working within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, heading an evaluative team for subdivisions for the last few years and so, like her colleagues, found herself attending the Ministry Halloween Party. Even the Boy Who Lived couldn’t escape the event so had instead campaigned for an open bar to ease the pain. 

“Only bloody Ogden’s firewhisky. Really cheaped out this year.” Draco Malfoy was leaning over the bar a few feet down from Hermione and mumbling to himself. The soft clinks of glass bottles as he searched through them could almost be heard over The Weird Sisters in the corner. The bartender watched with disapproval but had clearly already given up the task of fighting with a tipsy Malfoy. 

“If you drink enough of it, it’ll taste the same.” Hermione smirked as she shot him a side glance before sipping from her own glass. Draco finally spotted her and paused his search for decent whisky. 

“You may be right Granger, but it’s a matter of standards.” He slid down the bar to stand next to her, leaning against it to follow her eyes across the busy hall. She looks him up and down as he studied Ron in the corner, challenging a grinning Luna to a cartwheel competition as a pregnant Lavender watched with concern. 

“What are you meant to be?” He looked back at her before holding his arms out to show his striped shirt and trousers, she noticed for the first time the carefully placed layer of grime across his skin and the small amount of stubble across his jaw. “Ah. Prisoner of Azkaban.” 

“It was either this or whipping out dad’s old death eater outfit and I thought it might not go down so well.” Hermione snorted into her cup as he shot her a nervous grin. 

“Didn’t go for the ferret option?” Her tone was serious but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. He seemed almost surprised at her comment. 

“Oh fuck off.” They chuckled companionably and stood in silence as Luna completed three cartwheels in a row and Ron tripped over his own feet. “What are you then?” Hermione blushed. 

She was wearing what could barely be described as a dress; a cheap muggle Halloween costume her mum had sent as a joke. Three hours earlier she’d found it funny too but something about Draco’s gaze made her regret that decision. She shuffled her feet, adjusted the small pointed hat on her head and stuck her chin in the air. 

“A sexy witch.” She blushed deeply, swigging the last of her firewhisky down and missing the look of pleasant surprise that crossed Draco’s face. He chuckled to himself. 

“That you are.” She shot him a reproachful look. “Who am I to argue with the Smartest Witch of Her Age.” She rolled her eyes and he smirked down at her. 

“It’s a muggle halloween costume. It’s very common.” Hermone sniffed and turned around to get her drink refilled. She pointed the bartender towards the Ogden’s Firewhisky and just as he leant to get it Draco snatched away her cup. 

“Granger!” He waved a finger as if chastising her. “What have I said about standards.” 

“Malfoy!” She mirrored him, laughing as she did so before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m too drunk to notice.” He stepped closer, handing the glass back to the bartender and using the opportunity to whisper next to Hermione’s ear.

“Lightweight.” He stepped back grinning and she scowled at him. “Come one Granger, I know I have a bottle of something better in my desk.” He grabbed her by the wrist and started walking towards the edge of the hall, pulling her round the corridor. 

“Wait.” Hermione pulled her hand from his and stopped walking, crossing her arms. “You’re an unspeakable Malfoy, even I’m not allowed to your office.” He turned around slowly with one eyebrow raised. 

“Oh sure you’ve _never_ been to the Department of Mysteries.” He crossed his arms over his chest mimicking her and she stuck her nose in the air again.

“That was different.” When he didn’t reply with another quip about her less than legal teenage adventures she looked back at him to find him stifling a laugh. 

“I’m messing with you Granger, my office is nowhere near the department. We only use the restricted areas for research anyway.” She uncrossed her arms as he sent her a bright smile. “God, you Gryffindors are slow.” She jogged to catch up with him, shoving him in the shoulder as he flicked the hat on the top of her head. 

~

His office was around the same size as hers but considerably tidier. The bookcase lining one side of his office was impressive in its own way but couldn’t exactly compete with her own monstrosity of a bookcase just three floors above. He sunk into his chair with a sigh, turning on the lamp before pulling open the drawer by his knee as Hermione closed the door behind them. He slammed the large glass bottle onto the table and emptied his pen pot, transfiguring it into two small glasses. Hermione perched on the chair on the other side of the desk and tangled her fingers in her hair, pulling her small witches hat out of her mass of curls and placing it on the desk, watching closely as Malfoy filled one glass then another to the perfect level with intense concentration. He pushed it towards her with a friendly grin and she held it in both hands, waiting for him to take a sip first before following. 

Whilst Draco Malfoy was wrong about a lot of things, his standards for alcohol were well deserved. The liquid warmed Hermione to her core almost immediately and she felt as if time had slowed, Malfoy was saying something about Dragon importations and Giant networks and she could feel herself nodding along. The golden light from his desk lamp didn't help her concentration as it sent shadows across his cheekbones and jaw, his faux dirt makeup shining as she stared. He caught her staring and pulled her glass away from her, finishing it himself whilst shooting a questioning look her way. 

The rest of the evening passed by in somewhat of a blur, around an hour into their firewhisky soaked discussion about Non-Wizarding creatures Hermione had stood suddenly and perused the books on the shelves to her left. Draco soon joined her, towering over her and making little self-deprecating quips about each book she focused on. Rather abruptly Hermione went from smiling up at him as he joked about his least favourite chapter in Hogwarts: A History to tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck as he pushed her against the bookcase, his own hand in her curls and his tongue deep in her mouth. 

As voices passed in the corridor they were quickly sitting on either side of his desk once more, drinking more firewhisky in attempts to avoid eye contact and find their way back onto more stable grounds of conversation. Draco stayed firmly sat in his seat as Hermione stood to continue her evaluation of his literature collection, entertaining himself by humming A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love until he lost his place in the music and had to start again. Even trapping himself behind his desk didn’t prove enough as she dangled a particularly embarrassing piece of Romantic literature in front of his face and he grabbed it from her, not minutes later finding himself pressing her against the wood of his desk with his fingers tightening at her waist. 

It was Harry Potter, drunker than the two combined and already regretting his pro-bar stance, who found them wrapped around each other across Draco’s desk a little while later. Had he been anymore sober he would’ve noticed their compromising position and felt the need to comment. As it was he instead accompanied Hermione Granger, lipstick smeared, shoe missing and looking suspiciously sweaty back to Grimmauld place where Ginny dispensed Pepper-Up Potions and pats on the shoulder as Hermione sobbed into the toilet bowl about Hogwarts: A History and contraceptive spells. 

The next morning Hermione found herself more hungover than she’d ever been in her life. The single flight of stairs to her floor left her dry heaving and finding her own office proved to be an adventure in itself. When she eventually fell into her chair, dizzy and dehydrated she laughed out loud, smiling despite her pounding headache, at the small witches hat sitting at the center of her desk with a small piece of parchment reading “For the Sexy Witch with bad taste in whisky”. She placed it on her head and worked for the rest of the day with a grin even as her colleagues moaned and shot her strange glances.


	2. Day 1

**Less than a Week Later**

Hermione had spent Wednesday having a very difficult conversation with Arthur Weasley as they discussed the validity and realistic resources for his department. It was a difficult conversation to have with anyone but having it with a prominent father figure and dad of an ex-boyfriend didn’t help with her overall stress levels. When her assistant, a Hufflepuff from a couple years below her in Hogwarts, burst through the door shouting about an emergency she was almost relieved. 

“Harry Potter sent an urgent floo. He needs you at St Mungos.” Both Arthur and Hermione stood at once. 

“Ron!”

“Ginny!” 

To their utter shock the assistant smiled, shaking her head. 

“He knew you’d say that, it specifically says neither Ron nor Ginny are in any danger. But he does ask about babysitting times this weekend.”

“The absolute cheek of it.” Hermione scoffs as Arthur nods seriously in agreement. “I should probably go find him though, who knows what he’s got himself into.” She rounded the table to stick her hand out for a handshake with Arthur just as he leant in for a hug. She squeezed him tight, almost crying at the familiar affection and he let her go.

“You come for dinner on Sunday, you hear me? Molly won’t stand it another week.” 

“Alright.”

“And let Harry know that we’re free Friday for babysitting.” She grinned at that. “I’ll see you Sunday, Arthur.” He waved a hand as he left and Hermione threw on her coat immediately. 

~ 

“Arthur can babysit Friday.” Hermione greeted Harry and he was confused for a second before nodding. 

“Ginny will be thrilled.” Harry started pulling Hermione along by the elbow through the hospital corridors and into a room full of beds. All the curtains were open with every bed empty except for a single old man and his visiting grandchildren in the corner and the bed on the other side of the room with thick green curtains surrounding it. Harry stopped them right in front of it and let go of Hermione to look at her seriously. 

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Hermione blinked at him in confusion. “Anything at all? You know I won’t get mad, I’d just rather know.” 

“Rather know what?” 

“Draco Malfoy, the blonde git.” Harry looked at her seriously. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” The image of Draco shifting her legs apart on his desk as he undid his belt buckle with his free hand came to mind and she shook it away. 

“No. Of course not. Nothing comes to mind.” Harry swallowed heavily, nodding absentmindedly.

“Well I can’t say I’m not pleased in a way, but that does make this a little more difficult.” 

“Makes  _ what _ more difficult?” 

Harry opened the curtain and they both turned to the blonde patient sitting up in the bed, his feet almost hanging off the edge as he stretched his long legs. Other than a bandage around the right side of his head he looked identical to the last time she’d seen him out of a halloween costume. He immediately sat up straighter and grinned. 

“Darling! Potter told me you got lost on the way to the canteen. Did you find the red jellies? I told the nurse I couldn’t stand the orange ones but she wouldn’t listen.” Draco chattered on, using the same large articulations as usual but smiling at the two Gryffindors in a way they weren’t particularly used to. Hermione dared a glance in Harry’s direction and he furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.  _ Later.  _ Draco seemed to notice he no longer had their full attention and focused on Hermione again. 

“Are you alright?” He looked a little concerned and held out his hand to her, Harry pushed her forwards and she took it, watching as Draco grasped it and rubbed his thumb along the soft skin on the back of her hand. “I know you’re not a fan of hospitals but the mediwitch said I’d be out tonight if I finished my meal. Which, as you know, is problematic considering the orange jelly.” Hermione nodded, eyes still wide as she tried to absorb all the information at once. Draco studied her face, looking almost as confused as she felt, Harry coughed pointedly and Hermione jumped.

“Well, I’ll eat it for you and she’ll never know.” He grinned, clearly thrilled by her answer, and held out the jelly and a small spoon as she pulled a chair up and sat down beside him. She peeled the lid off the jelly and started eating it, a little unnerved under his downright cheery gaze. 

“As much fun as this has been Potter, I think your wife and kids would prefer it if you bothered them instead.” Draco’s words followed the malicious pattern of his childhood but lacked the cold tone. Harry nodded, grimacing at Hermione as she shook her head quickly, and left, closing the curtains behind him. Hermione stared at the pot in her hands for a second and Draco sighed. 

“I know what you’re going to say.” He adjusted himself on his pillows and closed his eyes. “Harry’s one of my closest friends and acting like a schoolyard bully isn’t helping anyone” He almost perfected her slightly condescending tone of voice and it ground her to a halt, looking up at him suddenly. If she didn’t feel like she’d been thrown through some strange multiverse that was almost exactly what she’d have said. “But I’ve told you he knows I’m joking. You’d think you Gryffindors would have thicker skins.” 

“I don’t sound like that.” He opened his eyes and turned his head on the pillow to face her. “You’re cute.” She blushed red. “After two years of dating I think I know what you sound like. I hear your voice in my sleep. Like nails on a chalkboard.” He slipped easily back into his mimicking tone “Draco put down the toilet seat; Draco stop bothering the cat; Oh my god Draco it’s too big! I don’t think it’ll fit.” His voice took on a breathy element at the end and Hermione’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. His lips quirked up at the corners as he watched her shift in her chair uncomfortably and refocus on the jelly, eating it in silence. 

He closed his eyes for another moment, opening them again once Hermione leant close to him to place the finished jelly and spoon back on the tray in front of him. 

“I love you Granger but I’m not going to kiss you after you’ve eaten orange flavoured food. You know that so don’t even try it.” Hermione swallowed dryly and shifted back in her chair beside him.

“I wasn’t going to.” He raised a single eyebrow at her and she couldn’t help but smile. “I really wasn’t.” She felt like the message was somewhat lost behind her grin; if he could’ve raised his eyebrow further he would’ve. He shifted in his bed, sitting straight up again and studied her face for a second before letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine  _ what _ ?” Hermione looked at him suspiciously as he gestured with two fingers for her to come closer. She shuffled her chair up a little and he rolled his eyes. She shuffled close enough to see the dark flecks of grey in his eyes under the fluorescent light and he pushed a hand into the hair above her ear, tilting her face up to his. 

“Hi.” He whispered it against her lips and she gulped. As she opened her mouth to reply he pressed his open mouth to hers. She could feel him grinning even as she closed her eyes and he slid his tongue against hers in a familiar way. She grabbed at his bed sheets as he tilted her head more, thoroughly exploring her mouth in a practiced fashion and leaving her breathless. Outside the curtain someone coughed pointedly, Hermione went to pull back but Draco ignored it completely, bringing his spare hand up to her chest. She pushed back against the chair quickly and stood, moving to the curtain without looking at Draco but hearing him fall back to the bed with a huff. 

Harry Potter stood outside the curtains with a serious looking Healer who gestured for Hermione to close the curtain behind her. They spoke in hushed voices despite the magical properties of the curtains surrounding the bed. 

“Miss Granger, I presume?” The Healer seemed a little frantic, working her way through some papers in her arms and Hermione nodded quickly. “Alright, we’ve looked at his details but you’re not listed as a contact, in fact you’re not listed at all. Mr Potter told me the two of you aren’t as close as Mr Malfoy seems to remember you being.” Hermione nodded again and the Healer nodded back. Harry looked between the two, pausing when he noticed how flushed Hermione looked. “Alright, he earlier guessed the year to be 2007? Has he continued with this particular train of thought? Would we be correct in thinking it to be somewhat different from reality?”

“I haven’t been here too long so I don’t- what’s wrong with him? Why am I here?” The Healer sighed and pushed her glasses back on her nose. 

“He was asking for you.” The Healer lowered her voice, “Obviously, due to his work within the Department of Mysteries, we’ve been given minimum information but from the sounds of it some work between the Time and Prophecy Rooms carried out by two junior staff members got out of hand and Mr Malfoy had to step in. He arrived here unconscious and woke up asking for a Hermione Granger.” Hermione nodded a little. 

“Granger!” Draco’s voice was slightly whinging and all three looked at the curtains at the same time. The Healer gestured for Hermione to go ahead and she cleared her throat quickly. 

“Malfoy?” 

“If you’re going to be out there long can you get another pillow?” His voice was almost sweet and Harry seemed repulsed by it.

“Get it yourself you lazy arse.” Hermione chimed back and Draco let out a long sigh. 

“Please.” His voice was even softer and Hermione sighed, looking between the Healer and Harry who both shrugged. She moved over to the empty bed next to his own and picked up the spare cushion, pulling the curtains from around him open. She pushed him forward a little to slide the pillow behind him and then passed him his glass of water as he settled himself again. As soon as she stopped back towards the Healer the curtains closed once again. 

“We’re not sure what state he’ll wake up in tomorrow so we’re keeping him in until we’ve figured it out. His potions should kick in in a little while and he’ll sleep until tomorrow morning.” Harry and Hermione nodded. “Hopefully he’ll wake up remembering none of this and we can go back to normal, in the off chance we find ourselves in another situation like this one could you give your details to the Welcome Witch as you leave? If you don’t mind?” Hermione took a scrap of paper from the Healer and started scribbling out her office memo channel at the ministry. 

“We’re hoping to put together some sort of treatment by tomorrow so I’ll speak to you again then.” The Healer moved to the other family across the large ward and Harry and Hermione stood in silence outside the curtains. 

“Did he kiss-”

“Yes.” Harry nodded, grimacing. 

“I may have sprung that on you unfairly.”

“Yes.” 

“Granger!” Harry snorted at Draco’s childish tone of voice. “I was just joking about the orange flavour, honestly.” Hermione sighed and Harry patted her on the shoulder, fighting a grin as Hermione flipped him off. 


	3. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably be updating with no rhyme or reason but I've planned out most of this by now. x

Hermione was an early riser; out of bed at five, breakfast at six, the first one in the ministry building at seven. That left her three hours to finish the work she’d missed the day before by the time she received an urgent owl for St Mungos. Her assistant handed it with a pile of other administrative work and Hermione sorted through the rest quickly before making her way to the floo point, stumbling a little on her high heels. 

The moment she landed in the foyer a Mediwizard, nervously clutching at his wand and a clipboard, stood beside her and nervously avoided eye contact. 

“Miss Granger?” He was looking at his clipboard as if he didn’t recognise her on sight. She nodded and looked around the room for Harry. “Mr Potter is with the head Healer right now, in his office.” 

“What did you need me for…” She read the badge on his robes. “Creevey? Oh! Creevey! How are you?” He sent a grin her way, nodding as a reply and waving at her to follow him. They both stopped in front of the door to Draco’s room and Hermione looked around confused. 

“He’s a little different to how he was yesterday.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, he still asked for you.”

“Alright...” 

“But he doesn’t remember yesterday.” 

“Oh- ok.”

“But he- well… he thinks it’s 2012 now.” 

“Oh.” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. “ _ Oh.”  _

“As far as we know nothing else changed overnight, we’re still working with the department of mysteries but this has, understandably, thrown somewhat of a spanner in the works.” Creevey went back to avoiding her gaze, pretending to look at something on his clipboard. 

“Can’t we send someone else in? I have work to catch up on and-”

“No, I don’t want to see my bloody mother! What’s wrong with you people? Jesus.” Draco’s raised voice had a bite to it and Creevey stood up straighter, shoulders back, at the sound. “Where’s Hermione?” 

“Creevey, can you owl Miss Terry at the Department of Magical Law enforcement and ask her to send any memos for today through to me here?” Creevey wrote down the details and Hermione smiled tightly at him. “Thanks.” She shook his hand before pushing through the doors and striding towards Draco’s bed. His curtains were open fully that morning and two Mediwizards were attempting to push Draco back on the bed as he attempted to stand. He spotted her and his face split into a grin, sitting himself back in the bed. 

“There she is! The Golden girl, the legend, the only reason Harry Potter survived past childhood, the love of my life. Mrs Hermione Granger!” Draco took on the voice of a carnival announcer, or possibly an auctioneer. Either way, the Mediwizards shared a consolatory glance with Hermione before filing out of the room. Hermione stood at the end of his bed, sweaty hands clenched together as his face turned serious. “What’s wrong?” Hermione studied his face with anxious eyes. 

“You’re in the hospital.” Her voice was quiet as she tried to absorb all the information. His excitable countenance yesterday hadn’t prepared her for the heart wrenching grins he was now sending her. He sighed and then held a hand out for her. She stayed frozen at the end of the bed, trying to judge his mental state without giving anything away. When she ignored his hand he dropped it to the bed sheets and attempted another large grin. 

“But I’m fine, just a bump on the head see? He pointed towards his bandaged head casually. “Still alive and kicking. How’s Weasley though? I bet he took the fall harder than I did.” He seemed genuinely concerned, under his somewhat pompous attitude. She still didn’t reply, looking around the room from some kind of backup and he mistook her silence for anger. 

“Just playing quidditch love. I told you this morning I was gonna catch the snitch. Still did but I’m not sure if it was worth the scar.” He looked up as if attempting to look at his own forehead. “I’m practically Potty now.” She finally loosened her shoulders and stepped around the bed to his side.

“Jesus, Malfoy.” She went to grab his hand but he missed it, distracted by something behind her. She turned around and saw nothing so turned back to spot him peeking around the curtains and leaning to look at the other side of the room. 

“Where are the progeny?” He kept his search up, even going so far as to look under the bed and Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back against the pillows. The pupils of his eyes blew wide as she held him there and he swallowed heavily even as she looked with genuine concern. 

“The what?” Hermione took a small step back and Draco rolled his eyes.

“The offspring, the uterine kin, the consanguineal.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer again. “I know how long words get you going.” She bit her tongue and blinked at him twice. He laughed. 

“My kids, Granger? At least as far as I know they’re mine, even you can’t fake that shade of blonde.” Draco was looking up at her with a smirk as he ran a single finger lightly along the inside of her wrist, setting her skin on fire. To make it worse the face he pulled suggested he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Well… um...They’re with my parents.” Hermione pulled her hand back and Draco sighed deeply. 

“Oh.” He looked almost depressed, eyes glancing around the room before resting on Hermione. He touched his bandage gingerly. “Leo would’ve loved this scar.” 

“Well, it’ll still be there when you get home.” Hermione tried a smile as she replied playfully, eyes wandering too long to what looked like a pout on his lips. He fell back against the pillows and sighed dramatically again. 

“Shall I see if we can find some books or something for you to read?” Hermione watched as an owl through a window at the other end of the room and almost missed Draco holding up a well-used book from the Hospital staff room. She nodded vaguely at him before walking to collect her work from the owl, Draco sat up quickly as she did so. 

“Where are you going?” Draco sounded almost accusatory and Hermione rolled her eyes, holding up her stack of scrolls. She pulled the table from the bed next to Draco’s and dragged the chair beside him to it. 

“Nowhere. I’ve just got some work to do. I’ll be right here.” She looked up at him as she started her work and raised her eyebrows. “Read your book.” He groaned like a petulant child and turned over in the bed to face away from her. Hermione silently sent an apology to Narcissa Malfoy for all her lost hours spent placating a whining Malfoy toddler. 

She worked in silence for a while, eyes flicking to him everytime he so much as turned a page too fast or adjusted his pillows. The sun had finally started to beam through the high arched windows and, despite his slightly pale state, he seemed almost content as he read peacefully, his lips moving a little as he unconsciously mouthed out dialogue. Hermione felt a smile creep across her face and then returned to her papers. Draco suddenly slammed the book shut and the noise echoed around the room. 

“If you’re busy working you can’t tell that I’m ignoring you.” Hermione finished her writing, rolling up the scroll and adding it to her completed pile before looking up at him to reply. He held her gaze for a moment before staring straight ahead pointedly. She shook her head and found her voice. 

“Malfoy. Is there something you wanted to say?” Hermione rested her chin on her hand as Draco crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Well actually there is darling, yes.” He nodded seriously. “See, I’m going to have to ignore you until I see the kids. It’s a Slytherin tactic. No offense, but you’re much less exciting.” A smile spread across his face as he looked off into the near distance in front of him. “Yesterday, Violet got two crayons stuck up one nostril. You’ve never done that.” He finally turned to her, smirking. “All you want to do is have sex with me.” Hermione returned her attention to the papers in front of her, signing something before looking up at him and grimacing. 

“Oh.” She shrugged casually. “Well, I’ll just stop doing that then.” She was a little shocked by her own flirtatious tone and chickened out of meeting his eye, instead staring at the page once again. She heard him cough loudly. 

“Well- now-” He spluttered a little. “Let’s not be hasty here, Granger. You keep things exciting in your own way.” 

“Thank you Malfoy, what a compliment!” She rolled her eyes and felt herself blush a little under his stare. 

“But seriously. Granger. You can't leave me at home all day with children and then expect me to be able to entertain myself like an adult. It’s ridiculous.” 

“They’re on the other side of the country now Malfoy.” Hermione could feel herself growing frustrated and looked at him with steely eyes. “So maybe grow the fuck up and entertain yourself so I can finish my work.” She thought he’d be taken aback, pouting further and sighing even more at her reprimanding but instead he smirked. 

“There you are.” Her face twisted with confusion as he looked pleased with himself. Then his voice went soft. “You’re always so on edge when I hurt myself. It’s just a bump.” Hermione focused her eyes on the work in front of her. 

“I’m allowed to be worried, aren’t I?” Hermione’s voice was as soft as his and she snuck a look at him under her eyelashes as she signed another document. He opened his mouth to say something, eyes sincere but with a smirk crossing his face, just as his Healer pushed through the door, Harry trailing after her. The Chosen One stopped when he found Hermione already sitting a little ways off from Malfoy and focusing her blushing face to the scrolls in front of her. 

“How are we doing here?” The Healer performed a couple diagnostic spells, mumbling a little and Harry made his way to stand beside the bright red Gryffindor as Draco teared his eyes away reluctantly to answer his Healer’s general questions. 

“Hermione.” Harry murmured in greeting, with a smugness in his voice. Hermione shot him a glare. 

“Potter.” Harry grinned wider at her frustrated tone and then bent a little towards her to speak quieter. 

“ _ Potter?  _ Really? I think you’re spending too much time together.” Hermione huffed and slammed her quill down on the table. 

“Well whose fault is that?” Hermione hissed. Draco was pointing to a certain spot on the back of his head as his Healer nodded, pressing her wand to it. 

“Actually, that’s why I’m here.” Harry said casually, flicking through some of Hermione’s work. She slapped his hands away. 

“Why  _ are _ you here? Your department has no jurisdiction over the Department of Mysteries.” Harry looked up at Draco quickly before looking back at Hermione. 

“ _ His _ department was working on a particular project that the Minister of Magic endorsed, rather selfishly. I’m here to make sure he doesn’t die or sue the entire Ministry. There’s a reason we keep the Unspeakables separate from the other ministry workers.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s all a bit of a mess really.” 

“What’s his Healer said about treatment?” Hermione smiled weakly at Draco as he waved, finally noticing their stares. Harry turned around to face away from Malfoy, leaning against the table. 

“Nothing much so far, they’re hoping that this progression through time, even if it’s somewhat different from how we know him, is an indication that his brain is working its way through.” HArry kicked at the floor with his foot. “Other than his head the real problem is his mind, he’s constantly battling between what he knows as reality and what he’s convinced himself of now.”

“What if I’m not helping? By being here?” 

“He almost punched three different Healers yesterday when they said you weren’t there. He was untreatable; he got himself into such a state.” Harry looked at Hermione who sunk her head into her hands. “Hermione.” Harry crouched to look at her as she whispered. 

“I- What if it’s my fault? Somehow?” Hermione shook her head and breathed shakily. Harry made shushing sounds and ran a hand up and down her arm. “I know it’s stupid but he just-” 

“What the fuck did you do, Potter?” Draco Malfoy was furious, sitting up in bed and glaring at Harry in a way he hadn’t done in years. Both Gryffindors froze for a second before Harry stood, holding his hands in the air in surrender. Hermione looked up from her own hands and pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes were a little teary and her face red but she was otherwise looking like herself. Despite this Draco pushed his legs around the bed, going to stand up before his Healer and Harry ran to stop him. 

“I’m fine.” Hermione wiped her eyes quickly and sniffed. Draco pushed Harry on the shoulder and tried to stand up again. “Honestly! Draco, I’m fine.” That seemed to appease him although he still eyed her warily before settling his glare on Harry as he sank back into his pillows. 

“Ok, we’re all done for now.” The Healer wrote some notes down on a clipboard and smiled at Draco, realised his attentions where elsewhere, smiled at Hermione, now removing herself from around the desk to shuffle closer, before giving up and retreating to the patient across the room. Harry stepped back from Draco, nodded at him awkwardly as Draco raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and squeezed Hermione’s hand in passing on the way out. 

Hermione wrapped an arm around herself and attempted a carefree grin, despite her climbing exhaustion; she’d barely slept the night, lying awake with thoughts of blonde idiots and their idiotic experiments. Draco shuffled in his bed, pushing himself to the edge of it and holding out the blanket. Hermione’s smile dropped and she stared for a moment trying to catch on. He rolled his eyes and patted the space beside him. Hermione watched as the Healer pulled the curtains around the other patient’s bed, sent her an apologetic smile and shut the door on her way out. 

“You can bring your work as long as you don’t try to explain it to me.” He grinned and Hermione sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly, pushing her shoes off as he slipped a warm finger under where her shirt gaped at the back and ran it along her spine. She grabbed his fingers in her own and turned her head to glare at him. He stifled a chuckle as she summoned some scrolls over to the bed and placed them at the end before sliding her feet under the blanket and shifting until she felt comfortable. Draco tucked the blanket over her and stretched his legs out as he lay back. He slid a hand beneath her shirt once again but made no attempts to move it, just pulled her a little closer and held her by the waist with twitching fingers. 

She worked in silence for a while, at least tried to, but found his mere presence distracting as he lay so comfortably next to her. For a while she thought he was asleep, his head resting against the pillow beside her chest as she sat up, her back painfully straight, but every so often he’d move his fingers a little. She thought it was unconscious at first, when she almost missed an entire line of work as his thumb tickled softly at the dip of her waist, but noticed the smirk he couldn’t keep from his lips at her gasp when he trailed the blunt ends of his nails across the sensitive skin adjacent from her hip bone. He opened one eye, as if sensing her stare, and grinned mischievously as she flicked her head back to her work quickly. 

“We should have another one.” He opened both eyes and turned to look at her work but kept his head on the pillow. She pretended not to be paying attention to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shake in her hands as she rolled up a scroll and sent it flying to the pile on the table. 

“Hmm?” She started another piece of work and ignored the massaging movements of his hand just below her belly button, a hair away from indecency. He copied her small humming sound before continuing. 

“Two’s not enough. They’ll get bored of each other soon.” She finally looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows. “And three’s just such a nice number.” It finally clicked and she swallowed heavily. 

“I always thought I’d have at least three kids.” She said slowly, returning her gaze to her paper but writing nothing, just staring through it. 

“I know! Exactly. We can squeeze one more in before your run for Minister.” He ran his fingers higher up her shirt before running them back down again and repeated the movement absentmindedly. “Have to try  _ really  _ hard but I think we’re up to it.” 

“Oh yeah?” She looked at him again and quirked an eyebrow, determined not to be left behind as his voice picked up a flirty tone. It wasn’t hard to play along, her pupils already blown wide and her voice a little higher than normal from his soft fingers. He grinned up at her.

“Well, not right now Granger, we’re not that short on time.” She spluttered a little, feeling left behind again as he mimicked her self-righteous shock. 

“I wasn’t-” He rolled his eyes and his fingers finally stilled, pulling themselves from her top as he pushed himself to sit up against the pillows next to her. 

“You were giving me bedroom eyes and you know it. In a hospital of all places.” His voice took on a tone horrifyingly similar to her own when Harry or Ron tried something stupid. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Granger.” 

“It’s gonna be really hard for you to have this third kid all by yourself.” She grinned at him and he sighed. 

“After 6 years of marriage you still underestimate me.” He shook his head as if deeply disappointed, stretching his arm to slide around her back and grip at her waist. 

“Jesus Christ…” She shook her head and sighed. 

“I’m honestly offended.” He grinned at her wildly as a grin crossed her own face. “Thank god! I’m starving.” A medi witch, with two trays of food hovering behind her, made her way into the room and stopped to direct the first tray their way. Draco grabbed it out of the air and placed it across his lap. Hermione grabbed the orange jelly and climbed out of bed. He made a disappointed noise as she did so but started on his sandwich all the same. Hermione padded across the room, leaving her shoes by Draco’s bed, to the other occupied bed, smiling at the mediwitch as she passed her. 

Draco had made significant progress through his sandwich and was starting on his apple as she returned. She stood beside him for a second before placing the jelly on his tray. He grabbed her hand and pointed to his mouth, chewing quickly. He swallowed and then pulled her closer to kiss her on the cheek, then on the nose and then a peck on the lips. 

“Fucking brilliant witch.” 

“It’s just jelly.” He shook his head and held up the jelly to the light like it was some sort of treasure. 

“You’re a wonder I tell you.” 

“You’re a whiny child when you don’t get what you want.” She said, sitting on the edge of the bed again and sliding her shoes on. 

“What are you doing?” She looked at him as if to say ‘do you see what I mean?’. 

“I’m going to make some tea.” He huffed as she stood. “Would you like any?” She stretched her arms above her head and he watched her with keen interest and a smirk, very obviously not looking at her face. Her question finally triggered in his brain and he fell against his pillows. 

“No.” His voice had a noble bravery to it, “I’ll go without.” She studied him with confusion. “Unless…” He was really going all out with the theatrics. “You’d be willing to collect my tea from home? The nice stuff not the ministry garba-” Hermione sighed loudly. “And while you’re there, bring me my fluffy socks? I’m practically freezing.” 

“I’m not bringing you fancy tea and socks. You’re a grown man.” She started walking to the door. 

“It’s called self-care, love!” He called after her. 

“Still not gonna do it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing your thoughts and comments! Please share! xx


	4. Day 3

It wasn’t until too late that Hermione realised that having sex with a wizard once and playing his doting girlfriend/wife for a couple of days didn’t exactly excuse trespassing. This did not stop her from making her way into his apartment through his private work floo and immediately making a beeline to the kitchen. She was here for fancy tea and fluffy socks and then she was gone. She walked past the open bedroom door across from the kitchen and stopped, walked backwards past it again, shook her head and kept walking. She opened almost every cupboard in the kitchen until she found it; a box of tea bags smelling of what she could only describe as pretentious. 

She walked back towards the bedroom, stopping for a moment outside before stepping in. It was surprisingly clean, considering his age and gender but perhaps her singular experience with dating Ron had left her bias. It was definitely his room though, a large bookshelf covered one wall and a large set of cupboards covered the opposite. Between the two there was a double bed, the duvet flipped back at that side and the pillow more crumpled. So he slept on the left, she shook her head and opened the cupboard doors, pulling out drawers to find the fluffiest pair of socks there. 

By the time she’d returned with tea the day before Draco had fallen to sleep, snoring peacefully. She moved the tray off him and tucked him in before telling the Healer about his state for the day, who had then assured her he’d be sleeping until the next morning. 

“Whatever’s going on in his brain, and trust me we’re trying our hardest to find out, is taking a lot of his energy.” Hermione had nodded, ready to go home, shower and sleep before the Healer stopped her. “We wanted to try something though. If you could find a book he’d be interested in, perhaps one you might suggest to him, but he hasn’t read yet could you bring it in tomorrow? We’re looking for evidence that his injuries are due to time magic instead of some kind of dream state.” 

Hermione placed the socks and tea into her bag alongside a book she’d teased him about not reading on Halloween. She looked around the bedroom one more time, reminding herself that she was here for two _very specific_ things before stopping again. The Healer had mentioned getting him out of the bed and walking around the ward, claiming his physical injuries had healed well enough. The image of Draco stubbornly refusing to walk around in the medical gowns came to mind and she slid open the other drawers, hoping to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and instead being met with sharp black trousers and crisp shirts; rows and rows of them. She sighed, pulling out a pair and stuffing them in her bag as well. She almost chickened out when she reached his underwear drawer. The thought of someone finding her, a veritable stranger, in his house with her hands in his pants drawer made her cheeks light up and her blood turn cold at the same time. She grabbed a pair without looking and fled from the apartment. 

She arrived at St Mungos, prepped and ready. The last two days had gotten out of hand, Draco’s unpredictable behaviour had thrown her off balance and she was eager to have even the slightest control again. She’d taken the day off, using one of the many holidays she had never even thought of using, and had floo called Harry at a ridiculous hour of the morning to set out a comprehensive plan for the day. By the time she’d walked to the ward she was armed with the bag of general knick knacks and a comprehensive list of excuses for the absence of two, perhaps three, blonde and curly-haired children who did not exist. 

Harry had staged it like some kind of mission, possibly reliving his glory days. They’d start on the ward, he’d collect the Healer’s daily update whilst she appeased a whining Draco until he was settled enough. Once they were finished there they’d make their way to the Department of Mysteries, the combination of their high standing positions in the Ministry and their close relationship with Minister Shacklebolt made getting passes into the department almost too easy. They’d been told the scene had been left as it was, under Harry’s orders, and planned to take as much evidence as possible and use the evidence labs on Harry’s floor to make some ways into their research before returning to St Mungos, checking on the moaning Malfoy before reporting back to his Healer. 

Two mediwizards, Creevey and another she vaguely recognised from her first day, were standing outside the doors to the room. Harry walked by her quickly on his way to the Healer’s office and waved vaguely. She turned back to the mediwizards who both avoided eye contact and said nothing. 

“What are you doing?” She looked between the two suspiciously. “Creevey?” 

“Stalling you.” Creevey made eye contact with her for a second before looking very interested in the ceiling. His companion did the same. 

“What?” Hermione stepped back, looking up and down the hallway with genuine confusion. “That’s not your job.”

“I know.” Creevey shrugged. “He was very persuasive though.” Hermione huffed and they stood in silence for a while. 

“Don’t you have something else to be doing?” She looked between the two. 

“Not really no-”

“My shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes.” 

“-I’ve become a little too invested I think.” 

She pushed past them and into the room and almost tripped over her own feet when she got there. Draco was sitting up in bed, as he always was, but with only a small plaster left on his forehead. He didn’t notice her for a second, too busy directing a small team of the hospital staff and house elves around his area. Her table from the day before had been stretched out, now more resembling a dining room table and candles were floating about a foot above where the curtains started, reminding her of the hall at Hogwarts. Draco swung his legs around to point his wand at the table and it covered itself with a tablecloth and candles. 

“I brought you socks and tea.” Hermione’s voice cut through the chaos and they all turned to look at her. Draco looked disappointed for a moment before smiling widely at her. A mediwitch turned to her and forced a smile almost painfully. 

“Mr Malfoy was just telling us how sad you’d be to be missing your _honeymoon._ ” Hermione’s gratitude for the witch’s assistance and the nerves that suddenly crept up her back grappled for her full attention. 

“Well, the surprise is ruined now. Fucking Creevey probably.” Draco ran a hand down his face and then sighed at the floor. “You can go.” He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes as the crowd dispersed. Hermione gripped the handle of her bag tighter and then sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He huffed out a dry chuckle and then turned to look at her. “What’s this about socks and tea?” 

Hermione avoided his eyes as she stuffed her hand into the bag and pulled out the pack of teabags and the pair of socks. Her eyes finally darted to his just as the curtains swung shut around his bed. He kissed her, and fiercely, his fingers digging into her waist as his tongue flicked at hers. After a moment she reciprocated, running her hands through the back of his hair and pulling slightly. He chuckled again against her lips before biting them. He grabbed her left hand interlacing his fingers with her own. He pulled back suddenly and looked down at their hands. She dropped the socks and tea onto the bed beside them. 

“Where are your rings, Granger?” Hermione swallowed and then grabbed his left hand, holding it up to his face and tapping his own ring-less ring finger. He looked even more confused. 

“They had to take it off you during treatment, I’ve put them all away in a box.” He didn’t look convinced, swiping his thumb across the empty knuckles of her left hand with a distant look on his face. Hermione sighed. Malfoy, years into marriage and two children deep had not noticed what she looked like or her lack of rings. Honeymoon Malfoy apparently did. He looked up at her when she sighed and his eyebrows pinched together. 

“Why are you looking at me like I've dogeared all your favourite pages in Hogwarts: A History?” Draco ran the pad of his other thumb along her cheekbone before kissing her softly. “They said I should be out tomorrow and we can get another Portkey to France any day we want to.” He smirked at her and his eyes lit up. “If you’re upset about the sex thing, these curtains have silencing spells woven into them.” She couldn’t stop herself from asking. 

“What sex thing?” He raised an obstinate eyebrow at her as if she was the one teasing him. The thumb still resting on her cheek worked its way into her hair and he tilted her head to the side before pressing a slanted kiss to her mouth and then her jaw and then trailing kisses along her exposed neck. She hummed a little and felt him smile against her skin as he peppered kisses back up. “Draco-” His lips covered hers again but not as fiercely as before. Instead he was torturously lethargic, sliding his tongue against hers. Every so often he interrupted the pace with nips at her bottom lip between his teeth and her breath hitched each time. He left her to gasp in much needed air as he kissed back down to the point where her shoulder met her neck. He sucked a little, licking and biting. “Wai- Draco-“ He interrupted her with his lips on hers once again, leaning into her fully now to press her back against the mattress and sliding a leg between hers. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off her. He looked down at her, panting a little himself but otherwise looking smug. She tried not to squirm under his gaze. He studied her in silent awe for a second and she looked around on the ceiling behind his head. 

“Do I still get to call you Granger now?” A mischievous look crossed his face. “We could swap maybe. I’d make a great Granger.” Hermione pressed her lips into a firm line, refusing to be dragged into his flirting. She pushed at his shoulders a little and he knelt back before kissing along the inside of her arm to the spot inside her elbow and back to her wrist. He held eye contact, his eyes alight with something more than mischief. She pulled both arms away and sat up to pick up the bag from the floor. He slumped back against the pillows and stretched out his legs next to her. She felt his eyes hot on her face as she pulled out his clothes. 

“The Healer let me know that you’d be able to walk around the ward if you wanted so I brought you some clothes.” She looked up to watch him holding up the shirt. 

“Couldn't wait to get me back in a suit, could you? I feel like you’ve only just ripped me out of my tuxedo.” He sent her a wink. 

“I was in a rush and I just-“ He rolled his eyes and kissed her on the cheek before he started pulling the hospital gown over his head. She stood with her hands behind her back, looking away. He hummed something that sounded suspiciously like The Wedding March until she looked at him again. He grinned at her as he pulled his trousers on and buttoned and zipped them. He slid the shirt over his shoulders and she felt herself frown subconsciously. He chuckled at her before grabbing her hand and pulling her over. She stood between his legs and he brought both her hands up to the collar of his shirt. 

“My hands are shaking a little.” He said it softly, with her face mere inches from his, and she noticed for the first time that they were. Presumably a side effect of a potion or maybe something from his injury, she filed it away to speak to the healer about. “You can tell the Healer later.” His hands met hers at his collar and he squeezed them.

He couldn’t be a Legilimens because she would’ve given the game away days ago. Maybe this version of Malfoy could just read her face like that, the thought did more to her than his kisses had. She started buttoning two buttons down, a distant memory of him in this shirt at The Three Broomsticks told her he’d never button it all the way to the top. She got halfway down the buttons, putting all her focus into making sure her own hands didn’t shake, when he finally spoke up again. 

“It’s strange isn’t it?” Her eyes snap to his feigned confusion. “You _dressing_ me on our honeymoon.” 

“Disappointed?” She quipped back and he grinned. 

“With you? Never.” Her breath got stuck in her throat and she paused her buttoning. The utter adoration in his eyes almost made her say something stupid. Then the curtains flew open and she spun on the spot to face the intruder. 

Harry Potter watched as Draco Malfoy wrapped his hands around the waist of Hermione Granger and pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder. The blonde peaked around her to raise an eyebrow. Harry was tempted to close the curtains again before Hermione coughed out some sort of greeting. 

“I’m surprised you’re standing, Potter. You drank so much at the reception I swore Ginerva had to drag you out.” Draco smiled. 

“Don’t call her that.” Was Harry’s automatic reaction. Luckily Draco just stuck his tongue out at his childhood enemy. He stretched his legs out on either side of Hermione and buried his face into her shoulder. “I-“ Harry was being awkward. “The Healer wanted to speak to Hermione.” He’d killed the dark lord twice and that was the best he could come up with. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. 

“We were going to walk around the ward.” Hermione said, fixing Harry with a serious look he didn’t quite understand. He glared right back at her. Draco looked between the two of them for a second before shrugging and pressing his face into Hermione’s neck. He looked up again. 

“Actually you should go.” Harry looked relieved as Draco scooted back onto the bed. “You can ask the healer about that rash.” 

“Oh.” Hermione turned to him. “I don’t have a rash.” Harry sighed and punched at the air as Draco studied Hermione with an amused smirk. 

“Your stress rash went away whilst your husband was in hospital?” She blushed at the word husband but he didn’t seem to notice, tucking a curl behind her ear. “That’s comforting.” he pecked her on the lips and then spun her with his hands on her hips and pushed her towards Harry. He sunk back onto the bed and opened up the book slipping out of Hermione’s bag. “Again? Really? I’ve told you I’m not going to love it anymore now than I did the first hundred times.” Despite his words he opens it to a certain page a little way through and starts reading. Harry grabs Hermione’s hand and starts dragging her out of the room, she almost waves at Draco but he’s fully concentrated on his reading now. 

They made it to the Department of Mysteries, a little behind schedule, but found very little amiss. A section of the hall of prophecies had been blocked off, where Draco’s accident occured. Other than smashed and empty prophecies and a pool of a shimmering liquid, there’s almost no evidence that an accident occured. They took samples of the liquid and questioned a few tight lipped Unspeakables who each say that Draco Malfoy tripped whilst carrying an experiment and must simply be suffering from a concussion. A few hours, half a mental breakdown and three floo calls to the hospital to assure Malfoy that she hasn’t run away to Paris with Harry later the liquid is identified as similar to that of a  Pensieve. This gives Hermione the fuel she needed to dream up at least three different theories and gives Harry the information he needs to sign off the majority of the case to St Mungos. 

Harry spent most of the afternoon watching Hermione with an inquisitive face when he thought she wouldn't notice. She finally caught him and he shrugged. 

“I just think it’s strange.” He’s leaning against the table as Hermione drops a small amount of the liquid into a potion.

“Hmm?” She didn’t look at him, watching as the mixtures swirl together. 

“How easily you slipped into this…. thing. With Draco I mean.” She turned to raise a disappointed eyebrow at Harry. 

“Well, it’s just acting. You’re not the only one capable of playing Slytherin from time to time.” Harry made a vague humming sound, he is unconvinced by her nonchalance. She switched gears, smiling as she wrote down some observations. “He referred to himself as Mr Granger.” She chanced a look at Harry who looked both distraught and pleased. 

“Wow. He must have hit his head  _ really _ hard.” Hermione fixed him with an unimpressed look once again. “I always thought you’d hyphenate you know.” She sighed.

By the time they made it back to St Mungos and Harry ran to show the new findings to an exhausted Healer, Draco’s eyes were getting heavy. Hermione pulled the book from his hands gently and placed it on the table beside him. 

“Where were you today?” He yawned behind his hand, stretching a little. She started undoing his buttons with her wand before stuffing it behind her ear. 

“Harry needed help with something.” Draco exaggerated an eye roll before pulling his arms out of his shirt sleeves. “I’ll be here tomorrow though.” His fingers started on his trousers but he struggled and she pushed them out of the way before helping him shuffle out of them. She folded them and put them on the side with his shirt. His eyes were just drifting shut as she pressed a kiss on his forehead and stepped away. He grabbed her hand. 

“Stay.” 

“I don’t-” He opened one eye and yanked her forward. He let go of it to shift over and pat the bed just like he did the day before. She sat on the edge of the bed and turned to lie facing outwards, flicking the curtains shut with her wand. He wrapped an arm across her and his breath was hot against the back of her neck. 

“We’ll-” He yawned and his fingers twitched at her waist. “-do the sex tomorrow. I’m too tired right now.” 

“No we will not. You’re in a hospital.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder but his face is pressed into the pillows and his eyes are shut. 

“Shush. Patients are trying to sleep, Granger.” She huffed and just caught a smirk on his lips before turning back and settling in.

“I thought you were Granger now.” She let her eyes droop closed. He made a humming noise before whispering back. 

“We’ll both be Granger.” She smiled. “As long as the hair doesn’t come with it.” She almost hit him with the pillow but was distracted as he interlocked their fingers and pressed a small kiss to the nape of her neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please! I'm isolating at the moment and super bored. xx


	5. Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some actual explanations. Sorry I've been so bad with updating, covid suckkkkkks. Hope you like it x

Hermione slept in later than she had in years. Her first thought once waking up was how the fuck had Draco managed to procure a child by sheer stubbornness alone. The second was: thank god that baby has ginger straight hair, it can't be ours. The third was identical to the first. Hermione sat up in the bed, rubbing a hand over her face as Draco mimicked the bubbly noises of the baby he was bouncing in his lap. 

“You’re adorable aren’t you? Yes, you are!” He was using a baby voice and grinning in a way Hermione had never seen before. “It’s not your fault you’re a Potter is it? No, it is not.” Hermione couldn’t fight the immediate impulse to hit him and slapped his arm. He turned to look at her with a glint in his eye. The baby gurgled out a laugh but Draco kept his eyes on Hermione as she shifted uncomfortably beside him. 

“Good morning.” She finally managed and his eyes shadowed for a second. 

“Morning.” His voice was considerably deeper than it had been with the baby and Hermione pressed her knees together before looking away from his face. “Sorry we missed sex night.” 

Before Hermione could react in anyway, such as ask in what reality they had a designated sex night, someone standing beside Draco chocked. Harry was here, presumably he was to blame for the baby currently climbing up Draco’s bare chest and babbling nonsense. Draco turned away from her to raise an eyebrow at Harry, spreading a single hand across the expanse of the baby’s back and patting it slightly as the infant tried to bite at his bare shoulder.

“Oh piss off Potter, as if I’ve never walked in on you and Weaslette ‘trying for another’.” He raised his free hand to gesture quotation marks and laughed as Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“No swearing around the baby.” Harry said, reaching to take the child back. Draco held the baby to himself tighter and pressed a kiss to the head of wispy red hair. 

“It’s not my fault I’m the baby’s favourite uncle. He just has good taste. Something to do with his incredible ability to overcome his shocking genetics.” Draco raised a challenging eyebrow to Harry as the baby made conversational sounding noises in response. Draco ignored Harry again as he held the baby up a little to look directly in his eyes. “Because you are just wonderful aren’t you? Auntie Hermione and I should just kidnap you and take you home with us. Little Drake.” 

“He already has a name.” Harry said, finally managing to remove the child from Draco’s tight grip and resting him on his hip. The baby stretched his arms out to Draco again and a self satisfied smile crossed the Slytherin’s face. 

“Yes and I’m sure you’ve told me what it is before, many times, but I’m currently in hospital for a head injury so excuse me if I’ve forgotten.” Draco’s words had started defensive, with a little malice but his tone got lighter as he captured the baby’s attention. He started pulling faces, sticking out his tongue and winking in one eye and then the other, back and forth. The baby laughed and clapped his hands together. “I bet it’s something stupid isn’t it? I bet it’s awful. Like Sirius or Dumbledore.” Draco returned his attention to Harry who shifted the baby on his hip a little uncomfortably and looked to Hermione for support. 

“No. Not exactly.” Harry started but Hermione shook her head and he let his words trail off. There was no point confusing Draco by trying to explain that the James he knew as a child who was probably years older in his memory, was now a baby. 

“It can’t be as bad as Draco for God’s sake. Constellation names are a nightmare.” Hermione finally spoke up and Draco turned to grin at her, flashing white pearly teeth. He sank back into his pillows and stretched an arm behind her. 

“I thought you liked the name Draco.” His words were innocent but he was examining her face like it was some kind of inside joke that should’ve made her blush bright red. He wound a single curl around his finger as he pulled his eyes away from hers again to return attention to the baby. He cocked his head. “Perhaps you’re right Potter, we’ll have to save Draco Jr for our own kids.” 

“We certainly will not.” Draco grinned at her tone of voice and she stuck her nose in the air slightly as she pulled the blankets off herself and climbed out of the bed. 

“Well we’re definitely not naming them after obscure Shakespeare characters.  _ Her-my-o-nee.”  _ Draco watched as she stretched her arms before leaning over the bed to tickle the chin of the tiny Potter. 

“You’re both equally pretentious.” Harry smirked as the two of them glared at him. “I can only imagine how awful your children will be.” 

“Our children will be the most beautiful-“

“It’s called standards Harry-“ 

“-the most incredibly smart and-“ 

“-and it’s the reason why they’ll be the most-“ 

“-talented children you’ve ever seen.” 

They both finished at the same time and pulled mirroring smug faces at Harry who simply blinked at them for a moment. James giggled and Hermione uncrossed her arms to lean across the bed as he stretched his arms out for her. She pulled him to her chest as Harry rolled his eyes, she pressed her nose to the top of the baby’s head and sniffed in what she hoped was a subtle way. Draco caught her and his face held such an unfamiliar longing that she looked away from him to Harry, ignoring the feeling in her stomach and the rush to her blood. 

“Why are you bringing babies to hospitals Harry?” Hermione asked, fighting a grin as Draco snorted and coughed into his hand. They both looked at Harry who paled. 

“Well- you see- Ginny was busy and it’s technically my day off so I thought I’d-“ 

“Couldn’t find a babysitter?” Draco asked, looking at Harry with the same mock fascination as Hermione, eyes flicking to her as she shifted the baby against her chest. “Or perhaps  _ we _ are the babysitter?” Harry looked up at the ceiling and pushed his hands into his pocket. 

“I thought you might be bored. I was trying to be nice, Malfoy. Don’t ruin it.” Draco seemed less surprised by his answer than Hermione did and pouted a little.

“Awww Potter.” A bold grin spread across Draco’s face. 

“Oh fuck off, Malfoy.” Harry said, walking around the bed to Hermione who was holding the baby tight to her chest. 

“You should watch your language Harry, the children are always listening.” Hermione said as she handed the child back to him. She turned to grin at Draco who was looking at her with dark eyes and she swallowed heavily. 

“Don’t tease me Granger.” Draco grabbed her by her t-shirt and dragged her towards him. “You know what watching you bullying Potter does to me.” He grinned suddenly and winked at a cringing Harry as Hermione tried to recover from the quick turnaround of emotions. His fingers teased at the waistband of her trousers for a moment, even as he smiled obnoxiously at the baby, and she sucked in a breath quickly. 

“I’m going to take him for a change.” Harry gestured vaguely to the child in his arms, looking between the two of them as Draco’s fingers traced Hermione’s spine and her hands clenched to fists. “I’ll see if I can find your healer on the way.” He nodded at them both a little stiffly and slipped out of the curtains, closing the gap again behind himself. Hermione stayed frozen until Harry’s vague chattering to his son died out. Then she turned to Draco who was grinning up at her as he pulled her closer again and brought his other hand up to grip at her waist. 

“You really can’t keep your hands to yourself. Can you?” Hermione said as he shifted himself across the bed even closer to her. 

“Definitely not.” He grinned up at her and she did nothing for a few moments, just studying his face with confusion. He sighed. “God Granger, don’t leave me desperate.” She jumped a little and licked her lips before leaning forward to place a quick peck to his lips. She pulled back a little but he didn’t take his hands off her, his fingers tightening at her waist. His eyes were still shut and his lips pouted slightly as he held his face up towards her. “Hmmm. No.” 

“No?” She stuttered a little at his rejection and he opened one eye to look at her. 

“No. Try again.” He closed both eyes again and she bent her head once more. He was less greedy than he’d been on previous days, more pliant than controlling and she felt herself blushing red. 

She raised a slightly nervous hand to his neck and held his jaw as he opened his mouth to her tongue. She blushed even more as he smiled against her lips and finally darted his tongue out to meet hers. Her hands travelled to his head and she pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck, a spot she distantly remembered having solicited some reaction from him. He made a sound almost close to a groan into her mouth before suddenly pulling her onto his lap. She adjusted herself to pull her leg over him and as he mouth was pulled from his he chased her lips. The moment she was back on him he bit at her lip and pulled her down to try and meet their hips together. Soon enough he was sliding his hands down from her waist and pushing them into the back pockets of her jeans as she moved herself over him. It felt oddly familiar and then she froze, pulling her mouth from his. She was suddenly reminded of exactly how many hours she’d been wearing those particular pairs of jeans for. His eyes studied hers with a little confusion, hands squeezing her suddenly and she let out a small squeak. He chuckled, his voice considerably huskier than normal and she felt his hips shift a little below her. He stretched to kiss her again but was interrupted. 

“Mr Malfoy? We’ve brought breakfast.” Hermione turned to face the voice, still hidden by the curtains and Draco stifled a noise at the back of his throat, grabbing her by the hips to stop her from shifting as his own hips bucked in response.

“Come right in.” Hermione said almost automatically and his eyes widened as he held her firmly in place. The curtains swung open and the mediwitch looked surprised for a second to find The-Brightest-Witch-of-Her-Age straddling a well known Ex-Death Eater. Draco lifted his head from the pillow a little to send her a weak smile. The mediwitch pulled his tray of food from the food trolley she was pushing along and placed it on the bed beside them. They both looked at it before looking at her, she studied them awkwardly for a moment before jumping and turning to leave. The curtains swung wide open behind her and Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly reprimanded. 

“What’s the date?” Draco asked her as she scrambled to climb off and sat on the bed beside him, blushing deeply. Her hands were covering her face as she mumbled a reply. 

“The 6th.” She removed her hands from her face, blood turning cold at the thought of giving the game away and wished she could take the words back. He seemed unbothered, simply nodding. 

“I thought so.” He hummed and then waved at the mediwitch, as she passed them on her way back from the other patient. “Do you have any chocolate?” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows as she and the mediwitch shared a look. 

“You don’t need-” Hermione started but the mediwitch was already looking through the meals on the trolley. 

“It’s normally for dementor attacks but I guess we can spare some.” She handed it to Draco who grinned and thanked her, waving her off as she pushed the trolley towards the doors. Draco handed the chocolate bar to Hermione and she looked between him and it for a moment as he dragged his breakfast tray towards himself. 

“Thank you.” She said as she started peeling the wrapping and he gave her a strange look as he bit into his toast. “But- I’m not sure why you...” She trailed off as he chewed and swallowed his toast quickly. 

“It’s the 6th.” He said it like it was a decent explanation and she kept watching him with confusion. He sighed. “You’re- you know…” She didn’t. 

“I don’t.” He leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Your period.” He straightened back up, looking vaguely embarrassed but pleased with himself, and she looked between him and the chocolate bar once again. 

“I’m not-” She felt herself blushing once again and avoided his gaze as he turned to look at her. “I’m not-” She couldn’t make herself say it and was hoping he’d just return to eating his breakfast and stop staring at her with wide eyes. “I don’t need-”

“Are you late?” He was grinning now, too widely, and there was an excitement in his eyes that she didn’t share. “Have you checked? We’ll call the healer and get a test right away. Wizarding ones are much more efficient than muggle ones.” He was starting to climb out of the bed, dressed only in his boxers and socks and she shook herself out of her frozen shock to grab his wrist. 

“You-” She swallowed, trying to soften her voice as he gazed at her with reverent adoration. “I’ll go find the healer myself. Harry’s probably got lost on his way anyway.” He let out a light laugh and climbed back under the covers as she took a bite of chocolate. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she jumped out of the bed suddenly. “I’ll be back in just a minute.” 

“Don’t do it without me.” He said, genuine worry in his eyes as he hooked his forefinger around hers and pulled her hand up to kiss it. She nodded and left, walking to the door slowly but practically sprinting the length of the corridor to the front of the ward and stumbling on her feet. 

Harry was bouncing his son on his knee as he spoke to the healer. They both looked up, a little in shock as Hermione, red in the face and breathing heavily, appeared in the doorway to her office. 

“Oh, brilliant Miss Granger! We were just discussing a diagnosis for Mr Malfoy. We’ve got a few ideas to work with that I’d like to discuss with-”

“Do you have a pregnancy test?” Harry and the healer shared a concerned look. She turned to the cupboards behind her desk and shuffled through one before pulling out a vial half filled with a smoky liquid. She held it out to Hermione, both women companionably ignoring the gasping sounds from Harry and the quiet giggling of James. 

“It works the same as a muggle one I believe. Although it changes colour for positive instead of the lines. Should be a lilac.” Hermione grabbed it but the healer wouldn’t let go, fixing eye contact with her. “It works after five days  _ minimum.  _ Has it been five days?” Hermione nodded quickly, pulling it from her and leaving again. Harry made vague sputtering noises before standing up quickly and following her. 

He found her finally, patting his son on the head as he stood awkwardly in the public bathroom, listening to her crying. 

“Hermione.” 

“I don’t-” She hiccuped around a wet chuckle. “I don’t understand how he would know. He’s-” 

“Hermione, it’s not his fault. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying alright?” Harry sighed. “Just come out so we can talk about this. Don’t waste the potion.” He waited for a moment until the door swung open and Hermione appeared in his view, sitting on the toilet seat and wiping a few tears from the corner of her eyes. The vial was still sealed, resting on her lap and she was studying it intently. 

“I could be-” She looked up at him and Harry stopped the small smile that was creeping up his face. “I don’t know if either of us cast the contraceptive charm. He could be right.”

“Who?” Harry crouched, holding his son closer to his chest as he looked up at red faced Hermione. “You told me you weren’t seeing anyone.”

“I’m not!” She rubbed her hands down her jeans. “We- at the halloween party- we-” She paused and looked at him with pleading eyes, willing him to understand. 

“Oh.” Harry swallowed. “Oh. No.” Hermione nodded. “Malfoy?” She nodded again. “And you’re sure you’re late?” Unbeknownst to many Harry and Ginny had been trying for months before she was positive and based on his brief conversation with whatever version of Malfoy they were dealing with today he believed them to be in a very similar situation. 

“And I feel awful. I’m so worried that it has something to do with me - why he keeps waking up thinking of me or if it’s some sort of sign that I’m-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say aloud the reality where her carefully planned five year plan was ruined and she had to raise a child with a man who was either a new kind of delusion every morning or, the only slightly better option, where he finds her amusing at the best of times and unsuitable for his bloodline at the worst. “I feel like I’m in some sort of horrible psych experiment.” 

“I know.”

She stared at the potion instead of replying and Harry patted her knee. 

“None of this is your fault. Unless you really did forget to do the contraceptive charm with the ferret and then I think we’ll probably have to retract your brightest witch title.” She smiled a little at that and he grinned. Then she let out a small sob and he grimaced. “Sorry. Bad Joke.” He stood and patted his mumbling son on the back. “Do you want me to stand outside?” She nodded and he swallowed, nodding back and closing the door behind him. 

After a little while leaning against the sink and pulling faces at a yawning baby in attempts to keep him awake, Harry looked up to see Hermione emerging from the bathroom. She’d stopped crying and was looking a little better as she shook the vial vigorously. 

“How long until you know?” Hermione asked and Harry shifted the baby from one hip to the other. 

“Three minutes. If it clears it’s negative.” She nodded at him and shook it harder. Every so often she’d imagine it a bright purple or pink and her blood turned cold before she focused on it again to see the colour still smoky. Eventually her arm got tired and she placed it on the counter whilst she splashed water on her face. 

“It’s clear.” She looked up from the sink, her face dripping water to see Harry pointing at the vial. He was right, the potion had turned clear as water. She breathed out a sigh of relief and rested her head in her hands, leaning over the sink. She laughed suddenly before letting out a long breath and turning to face Harry with a reluctant smile. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m absolutely fine.” She plastered a large grin to her face before patting Harry and then his son on the head and nodding at them both. 

“Are you sure? You’re giving off a strange energy I’m not sure I understand.” 

“I’m brilliant Harry. I’m perfect. Let’s go talk to the healer.” She said it with the bossiness he was more than used to and he studied her for a second before she went striding out of the door. 

Once settled in the healer’s office, Hermione nodded primly at the healer’s understandable concern before diving right into what she called “the main issue”. Harry considered this up for debate, having felt a little baffled at the sheer amount of shocking information piled on him within the last ten minutes, but decided self preservation should be his priority. 

“So the department of mysteries has confirmed some of your theories about the potion you found on the scene.” The healer pulled a scroll towards her and unrolled it, reading aloud. “They describe it as: A potion that allows you to experience a small part of a prophecy once said prophecy has been set in motion, similar to how you would experience a memory in a pensieve.” Hermione nodded, this matched a few of her theories already. The healer continued. 

“The problem is as Draco spilled it and then banged his head a small amount may have made it into his bloodstream. This is a little different to how you normally would use the potion, something the unspeakable I spoke to was very clear on but refused to clarify.” Harry and Hermione both nodded, processing the information. 

“But there aren’t any prophecies about us are there?” Hermione sounded a little unsure, looking to Harry with nervous eyes. Harry shook his head. 

“None that I know of. Many of them are either too vague or too unimportant for me to hear about though.” The healer nodded. 

“That would match my theory. It’s why he’s arriving on a new day every time he wakes up. The potion is trying to find important days or moments in the prophecy that he should be experiencing. Presumably, on the dates that he’s experiencing something important would occur in his life, or something he considers important.” She looked at Hermione with a little concern. “Would you recognise a pattern of something like that?” 

“Well-” Hermione thought for a second, biting at her nails before nodding. “It was our honeymoon yesterday. The um-” she hesitated, “the day before we agreed to have a third child, and he beat Ron at quidditch but I don’t know if that’s-” Harry snorted out a laugh and his son giggled up at him. “Maybe the first day we would’ve been getting engaged? It fits his timeline quite well.” 

“It’s not-” Harry paused, eyeing Hermione tentatively. “It’s not real is it? It’s not the future?” 

“We don’t think so. No. It’s certainly not an issue of time travel.” Harry and Hermione both let out a breath as the healer nodded seriously. “The book you brought in yesterday; he seemed sure he’d read it but couldn’t identify the plot, he got himself all worked up when he couldn’t remember the characters or story, then he blamed it on his head injury.” 

“He did something similar with James this morning.” Harry said and the healer pulled out a quill to write notes. “He said he couldn’t remember his name but was sure he knew it.” The healer nodded as she wrote it down. 

“So what is it? If he’s not experiencing the future.” Hermione seemed impatient now, her leg jiggling as she bit at her nails some more. 

“I’d say the best way to describe it is that he’s dreaming.” The healer said as if that was the perfect complete explanation. 

“Like he’s sleep walking?” Hermione seemed deeply concerned at the idea, blushing a little and Harry wondered exactly what Malfoy had been getting away with behind closed curtains. 

“No, no. More like-” The healer sighed and thought for a moment. “When you dream you already have full explanations and backstory for why people and things are there, you don't even question it.” Harry and Hermione nodded. “I think that as his brain arrives on the date it assumes what would have happened; it fills in the gaps for him based on what he already knows. It’s not necessarily your future or his for that matter but it’s the closest guess his brain can come up with.” Hermione swallowed heavily before looking down at her hands as the healer studied her with inquisitive eyes. 

“So what? He’s in love with Hermione?” Harry felt that maybe  _ this  _ was the so-called “main issue”, and was something he was rather desperate to have clarified. 

“Well that's not for me to say,” Harry tried to ignore how Hermione’s breathing stuttered a little at the healer’s answer. “There’s no medical way of measuring that, but I’d say she clearly means something.” Hermione was resolutely avoiding all eye contact and blushing the most Gryffindor red Harry had ever seen. The healer pressed forward, seemingly as eager as Hermione to linger on the subject. “I’d like to see what would happen if she wasn’t there, perhaps if we don’t confirm his behaviour his conscience will change to suit that reality.” 

“Does that mean-”

“There’s no need for you to come in tomorrow, I’d say return to work but as a Healer I feel some kind of ethical responsibility to tell you to take the day off. You’ve done more than you need to, more than most people would be willing to do, so far and we’re still a ways off from the cure.” 

“I guess I am a little tired.” The healer smiled at Hermione’s reluctant reply and nodded before turning to Harry. 

“You too, Mr Potter. Days off all round. I'll have you updated again on Monday.” 

“What should I do now?” Hermione looked a little queasy. “He’s going to be worried if I don’t go back, we left things in a rather odd place.” The healer gave her a knowing smile.

“I’ll send my mediwizards in and administer some potions, we need to do some tests anyway. We’re making some progress on whether to remove the potion or let it run its course. It’ll be easier if he’s unconscious.” Hermione nodded. 

Harry made some more notes, copying off the healer, to take back to his department as Hermione hugged a now sleeping James close to her chest. Harry walked her to the floo, watching her with interest and stopping her right before she walked through. 

“We’re going to have to talk about this at some point. You know that?” Hermione nodded. “Do you want me to send Ginny through the floo once she’s home? For company or something?” Hermone smiled and shook her head. 

“Honestly, I’m fine Harry. Stop worrying.” He didn’t but let her go all the same. 


	6. Day 5 & Day 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✨procrastination✨

**Day 5**

Narcissa Malfoy looked uncomfortable in Hermione Granger’s kitchen. The Gryffindor part of her felt a stubborn sort of pride whilst whatever Ravenclaw she had in her told her that it was probably more to do with the pile of dirty laundry and toast crumbs than anything she’d personally achieved. This was food for thought for another day as Narcissa sat in silence and Hermione splashed milk into her tea and placed it in front of the Malfoy with slightly shaky hands. Once armed with a teacup Narcissa seemed more ferocious. Hermione was hit with the reality that whilst she had been lounging around St Mungos with a man who adored her, no one had informed the now seething Slytherin, sipping tea with a barely veiled sneer, that her one and only son was confined to a hospital bed. Narcissa, ever the polite house guest and infamous for thinly veiled comments, chose not to mention this. Instead her eyes scoured her surroundings, pausing on a chair where a single sock, a crude magazine of Ron’s Hermione had stolen one very boring weekend and the pile of ginger known as Crookshanks were strewn over the arm. She looked to Hermione again and the Gryffindor blushed. 

“I am glad at least that the rumours can not be true.” These were the first words Mrs Malfoy had ever spoken to Hermione directly, having knocked politely and invited herself in moments before in complete silence. Hermione blinked in response, enough time with Draco had taught her; don't attempt to understand Slytherin’s just allow them to ramble on their own path until their intentions are clear. Narcissa placed her teacup on the kitchen table, the lack of a saucer glaringly obvious. “Draco would never live in such a mess.” 

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment and the memory of Draco’s sparklingly clean flat and equally well-organised office came to mind. She’d never spent the time before to notice how absolutely pristine everything was around him but sitting in her pyjamas, surrounded by some of the most embarrassing of her belongings, it all fell into place. 

“I am correct in thinking he doesn’t share this…” Narcissa struggled, possibly searching for a word that was both civilized and communicated her deep distaste for everything around her. “...flat.”

Obviously, Narcissa was right. Draco had never even stepped foot on the premises but Hermione felt more than a little cornered and her anger flared for a moment, refusing to respond either way. Narcissa was searching for some kind of confirmation or denial, most probably a denial, but it was intriguing. The slight crease between the woman’s eyebrows gave her away and Hermioen finally spotted the genuine anxiety; so cut out from her son's life she wouldn’t even know if he was living with a Muggle-born. Quite suddenly Narcissa sighed. It was identical to Draco’s, the times he would sigh over a piece of work in the school library when no one was looking or with his head pressed against the wall of the Ministry elevator late on a Friday; not the whining sighs he’d been exhibiting recently. Clearly both mother and son had put in their hours with Lucius and had developed the kind of soft sigh that was less irritating than it was strangely calming. 

“Have you been to visit him?” Hermione sipped at her own tea finally, trying to wash the question back into her mouth. For a second Narcissa seemed furious before she pursed her lips and nodded sharply. 

“He was rather upset.” Narcissa tapped her nails against the teacup. “You are not a mother-” She paused and tilted her head a little. “I need you to come back with me to the hospital.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“I understand that this may be nothing more than a passing concern to you Miss Granger, but I spent an hour this morning calming my deeply delusional son who for some unknown reason is entirely convinced that his pregnant wife has left him.” 

Hermione swallowed any weak defense at the tone of Narcissa’s voice; she sounded about as emotional as Slytherin’s were capable of and coughed into her hand daintily before continuing. 

“I’m sorry that you’ve been dragged into this.” Narcissa looked almost kind for a moment, or perhaps it was more like pity. “He’s told me countless times that you’re not involved with each other-” 

“He- what?” Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed and for a moment Narcissa seemed almost guilty, like she’d let slip some private Malfoy family business that bushy-haired muggle borns shouldn’t hear about. Hermione thanked Merlin, Gryffindor, Dumbledore and whatever God that would listen that the pregnancy test had been negative, Narcissa Malfoy was seemingly stunned into silence by the mere idea of her son dating a muggleborn. A grandchild may have just tipped her over the edge. 

“I need you to come to St Mungos.” Narcissa stubbornly snapped, interrupting Hermione’s trailing thoughts; perhaps for the best. Narcissa stood swiftly, eyes sweeping around the flat as she ignored the barely concealed shock and confusion on Hermione’s face. The Gryffindor had been expecting more of a fight; a battle of wits; a manipulation. Instead she received thinly veiled pleas. 

“I’m not- his healer told me not to.” Narcissa sneered at that and Hermione almost lost her nerve. “They’re attempting to understand his condition better, I can’t jeopardize that.” 

“He’s in pain-” Narcissa was relentless, Hermione was more than expecting dramatics; Malfoy had been very obviously spoiled as a child. 

“He’s  _ upset _ . He’ll be fine tomorrow, he won’t even remember.” Hermione gritted her teeth as she stood to level herself with the Slytherin. “If that was all, please leave my flat.” Narcissa’s face was quite a picture of righteous outrage as Hermione herded her towards the door and out, waving slightly as her figure retreated. 

Hermione had barely cleared away a quarter of the knick-knacks covering her flat when her guilt finally took over her. She spent fifteen minutes standing at her front door, stepping backwards and forwards, shaking her head and then nodding sternly and generally looking to a nearby Crookshanks as if she had entirely lost her mind. She followed her instincts and once again found herself breaking into Malfoy’s flat. She took to the front door this time, the effort of accessing by floo through the ministry too much for her haphazard plan and was more than a little surprised that his wards let her in immediately. Possibly they were tied directly to his magic and had been dropped entirely during his injury or he had subconsciously changed them now that he was claiming to be in love with her. Either way she snuck through the apartment, headed straight for the bedroom, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder as she slipped through the doorway. 

A small voice at the back of her mind told her that she was grasping for straws, desperately clawing for the most obscure of excuses to go back to St Mungos. It had barely been a day since she’d last been there, perched on his hospital bed as he stared at her like some kind of angel or grabbed at her like he couldn’t ever pull them as close together as he really wanted to, but there was a pit in her stomach at the thought of him upset. She’d never seen him that way, even when she was bleeding out on the floor of his manor the glimpse of him she’d gotten was one of slightly furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw, nothing painful or upsetting. Perhaps she was right and Narcissa was simply dramatic or ridiculous, although what Hermione knew about the woman had always given her the impression that she was the sturdiest of the Malfoy clan, or maybe she knew something that Hermione didn’t. Either way Hermione took these excuses in hand as she pulled a matching pyjama top and bottoms from his drawers, shutting them again as she stuffed them in her bag. 

She clenched her fists as she flooed to St Mungos once again, now more than at home in the large foyer of the hospital. Even if she didn’t make it into the hospital room, maybe she could have them passed along through a healer and he’d realise where they’d come from. She was half way through her incredibly stupid and downright disastrous plan when she ran head first in Creevey. 

“Hermione!” She nodded and walked past him trying to ignore as he scurried after her. “Miss Granger!” She turned to face him, shoulders back and neck straight with an obnoxious boldness she had learnt from Ron. “You’re not meant to be in today.” She swallowed. 

“Mrs Malfoy came to see me.” That was perfect, deflect the blame. She was definitely picking up some Slytherin tactics. “She said it was urgent.” Grazing the edge of a blatant lie? She could practically hear Salazar himself whispering encouragements. 

“Oh!” There was a crash down the hall, from the doors leading to Malfoy’s room and they both turned to face it. Creevey turned desperate. “Let me get you to the front desk and we’ll find-” He was interrupted by a roar of anger. 

“I SWEAR TO GOD!” It was Malfoy, it took a moment for her to recognise it. His rage was normally cold and arrogant, making you aware of his displeasure but meant to arouse shame instead of fear. “Potter, I don’t need a wand to rip you to pieces. Where the fuck is my wife!” The soothing voice of Malfoy’s healer interrupted his shouts and Hermione stepped closer to the door to hear her. 

“Mr Malfoy, you’re not married.” This was met with a low growl. “As we’ve been trying to tell you for hours now. If you would just sit still for long enough for me to explain.” 

“I don’t have that kind of time. I can’t leave her on her own!” There was a moment of silence, Malfoy huffing and muttering something before Harry spoke. 

“Why can’t you leave her on her own?” 

“You are well fucking aware of the answer to that,  _ Potter. _ ” He spat out the last word like they were in the Hogwarts corridors once again. 

“Humour us,” The healer said, her voice still mellow and calming. “Please.” Hermione could practically hear Malfoy rolling his eyes. 

“She’s 43 weeks pregnant, she’s actually managed to procrastinate having a baby.” He chuckled a little before mumbling something that sounded like ‘stubborn bitch’ but Hermione couldn’t be sure. “Anyway, I’m assuming that no one has told her yet that I’m here. Which is more than ideal so just let me-” There was a shuffling of feet, presumably Malfoy had attempted to stand and had been firmly discouraged. 

“Mr Malfoy!” The shuffling stopped, though Harry’s sigh was audible, and the Healer cleared her throat loudly. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Malfoy’s trademark sigh was a bare whisper through the door but Hermione recognised it. “You are  _ not _ married to Hermione Granger, you are still working at the Department of Mysteries, you have no children. I understand that this will be distressing to hear but we need you to cooperate with us, you had an accident at work which has affected your memory.” There was another sigh. 

“Prove it.” Malfoy’s voice was firm, Harry sighed. 

“What’s Hermione’s mother’s name? Just her first name.” 

“Well, that’s easy it’s-” The words rolled off Draco's tongue until he stopped suddenly, the words not falling out naturally the way they should’ve done. “It’s- hmmm- I think-” 

“You don’t remember, you don’t  _ know, _ Malfoy. You’d know that wouldn’t you? You  _ should _ .” 

“Something else.” Draco mumbled. 

“Pardon?” 

“Ask me something else.” Malfoy’s tone was impatient and Harry sighed. 

“When’s your wedding anniversary?” 

“The summer.” 

“Which summer?” Harry asked. “Which summer, Malfoy?” Nothing but silence and the scratch of a few quills. 

“Alright.” Malfoy said finally, there was a pregnant pause which Harry was the first to break. 

“Alright?” Harry sounded skeptical, as was his constant state of being around Draco. 

“No, of course it’s not bloody alright!” Another sigh. “I just- I don’t understand.” There was a scrape of a chair being dragged to the bed. 

“Well, we’re here to help you understand. However we can.” There was more silence. “What can we do?” 

“Just- just let me-” Something sounding suspiciously like a stifled sob reached Hermione’s ears. “We’re really not married?” Silence followed and Hermione assumed someone shook their head in response. “Dating?” More silence. “It all just seemed so  _ real _ .”

“We’ve been looking into treatment, we think we’ll have a counter-potion for you by tomorrow, we’re hoping.” Draco hummed again. “For now we just need you to stay present, keep your mind focused on the facts and use occlumency if you need to. We’ll be bringing you newspapers from the last couple weeks to try and jog your memory, just whilst we finish the potion.” 

“What’s the treatment going to do?” Malfoy said, sounding genuinely confused.

“Well...We hope it’ll bring you back to the present. Stop your head from getting confused.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” There was a moment of awkward silence, the shuffle of feet and a small cough the only sound. “Will I always be like this? Stuck in this hospital and- and she won’t come and visit me. Will she?” 

“Listen, Malfoy.” Harry started but was interrupted by the healer. 

“Miss Granger has been here everyday since your accident, Draco. She was more than willing to help, I’m sure we'll work something out.” Draco let out a low groan and Hermione could imagine his exact position in her head, the heel of his hands pressing above his eyes as he covered his red face and bent his head. 

“Oh god. She’s been here? She saw me like-like this?” He sighed again. 

“She’s been…” The healer searched for the word. “-amenable.” 

“She  _ hated  _ me- hates me, I guess. Present tense.” Another sigh. 

“I don’t think she does.” Hermione blushed red, Harry’s voice was guilty and he held secrets she’d rather keep to herself. “She mentioned an-an incident. At the Halloween party?” Hermione almost went barreling through the doors but felt a hand on her arm, Creevey had sensed her rising anger. “She doesn’t hate you.” Malfoy chuckled. 

“So that’s real? That night? But nothing after it?” Malfoy made a small laughing sound again. “Fine. I can work with that.” Hermione could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve done it before- at least I think I have.” 

“Will you let us treat you now?” Another pause, then presumably the nod of a head. There was the shuffling of feet, creaking of chairs and suddenly steps were coming towards the doors. Hermione pulled the pyjamas from her bag, shoving them into Creevey’s arms before she practically sprinted the length of the corridor for the second time in two days. 

~

Ginny Weasley had just got a wailing James to sleep, sitting herself down on the sofa for a moment's break when the floo roared and Hermione stepped out. The two witches studied each other for a moment. Ginny broke the silence with a sigh before raising a single disapproving eyebrow. 

“Really? The fucking ferret?” Hermione’s breath hitched and she shrugged slightly. “Harry told me you weren’t pregnant.” Hermione shook her head, swallowing heavily. Ginny was using her newly discovered ‘mum voice’. “Not something I knew we needed to be worried about.” Ginny shifted herself on the sofa and patted the spot beside her, Hermione dropped her bag and practically fell onto the sofa. “I am worried.” 

“Me too.” Hermione whispered, pushing her curls back from her face and staring up at the ceiling. 

“Will you tell him?” Ginny stood, stretching her arms above her head before making her way to the cupboard in the corner of the sitting room; where Harry unsuccessfully hid his firewhiskey. 

“Hmm?” Ginny raised a single eyebrow. 

“When he’s back to himself. Will you tell him?” Hermione didn’t ask  _ what _ ; she didn’t want to think about what she’d say. She nodded. “Will you go back tomorrow?” She nodded again. “Alright.” 

**Day 6**

The Healer’s were somewhat somber when Hermione arrived early that morning. She clutched her folders of work to her chest and kept her head down until she reached Malfoy’s corridor. She paused before she walked through the doors, taking a deep breath and pushing her shoulders back. 

Harry had arrived home last night, a little surprised to find Hermione drinking her way through his alcohol before shaking his head and joining her. A letter from the healer, addressed to Harry but stolen by Ginny confirmed the news; they’d found a cure. The potion would take a few hours to brew so they’d dispense it to Malfoy at some point the next day. Hermione was assured multiple times that Malfoy could survive the morning without her; that she wouldn't have to see him again until he returned to work, back to his usual self. This was not something she wanted. 

She pushed the door open and walked quickly to the curtains around Malfoy’s bed, taking another deep breath before shoving them aside. He was still sleeping; lying on his front, legs and arms splayed wildly. His face was turned towards her, his fringe falling over his eyes a little and his soft breaths were steady out of his open mouth. She regretted the pyjama incident yesterday, they looked soft and warm and were not helping her fight against the impulse to climb under the covers with him. She clutched her bag against her, it had become almost a defensive move now, and stepped closer. He remained unchanged other than a small humming noise from the back of his throat and she stepped even closer, placing her bag on the floor beside her softly. She stretched out her twitching fingers, brushing his hair away from his eyes before running her fingers through it. 

“Mmm.” Still mostly unconscious he leaned into her touch and she froze. “Don’t make me get up.” She continued running her fingers through his hair as he pressed his face into the pillow and made another satisfied hum in the back of his throat. “ _ Granger _ .” His tone was almost growling, throat still heavy with sleep and she pulled her fingers from his hair. The moment she did so he finally opened his eyes, pushing himself up from the pillow to glare at her. “You can’t just-” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and finally became aware of his surroundings. He sat up quickly and looked around frantically before looking back at her for some kind of answer. 

“We’re at St Mungos. You hit your head.” She was a little concerned by how easily she lied now. “Just a small accident but they kept you in overnight.” 

“Oh.” His hands went up to his head, seemingly searching for bandages but found none and his confusion deepened. 

“Do you-” Hermione studied him as he glared at the foot of his bed, fingers still gingerly poking around for an injury across his head. “How’s your memory?” He looked at her suddenly and there was a pit in her stomach until a smirk covered his face. 

“I haven’t forgotten about that promise you made me. If that’s what you mean.” 

“I- no?” His grin spread wider and she clasped her hands together behind her back as she tried to evaluate the glint in his eyes. “What did I promise?” He rolled his eyes and then crept a hand up the side of her leg, slipping the tip of his finger below her top before continuing its path to her arm. 

“Dinner at your parents,” She almost let out a sigh of relief, that wasn’t too bad. “And in return…” She unclasped her hands as his fingers reached hers and he tried to pull her closer, her knees hit the edge of the bed softly. He looked up at her expectedly. She took a moment to swallow, using the intimate knowledge she’d amassed over the last week to predict how far into the gutter his mind was. 

“Not in a hospital.” Privately, she thanked the hospital for its multitude of ready made excuses and mourned for her lack of them once they made it out. Then she was struck with the thought that he wouldn’t be  _ hers _ once they made it out, he wouldn’t be her problem anymore. He seemed to notice her sudden forlorn expression and he slotted his fingers between hers before pressing a kiss against their interlaced fingers, keeping his eyes on her and fighting a smirk at her sudden shaky exhale. 

“That’s probably for the best. You’re a little loud sometimes.” He let go of her hand with a wink and ignored her incredible impression of a tomato. He instead sat on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms above his head before stifling a yawn behind his fist. She watched him rub his hand along the stubble on his jaw and something snapped. 

“You’re not exactly quiet yourself.” She knew this was true; in fact she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He scoffed, mildly surprised by her outburst, but only raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her. “I mean… I wasn’t-” 

“I know.” He grinned at her and then looked around the small space, her own eyebrows furrowed as his smile dropped. He looked back at her suddenly. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She shook her head and he nodded, lacing their fingers together once more. She perched on the bed beside him and she noticed a twinge of insecurity. “You know you didn’t have to come.” He was avoiding her eyes but his thumb rubbed small circles across the skin of her hand. 

“Why wouldn’t I come?” He shrugged, staring at his feet, and showing something too close to real emotion for the man she knew. “Draco?” 

“I am well aware of how badly dinner with your parents went, Granger.” He looked back at her now and his fingers tightened around hers just a little. “I know how important they are to you and- and so I understand if you don’t want-” He swallowed heavily. 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” She said his name slowly and his eyes widened almost comically as she fixed him with a stern look. “Are you trying to break up with me?” He turned a bright red and she let out a small laugh, shifting closer to him on the bed. He scowled, although the effect was lost as he leaned in closer. 

“I just don’t want you to regret anything, Granger.” This insecure version of Malfoy was not something she was used to and was certainly not something she was prepared for. A discussion of feelings, fictional or non-fictional, didn’t seem like the greatest idea in her current state, nor his own for that matter. 

“Why do you still call me Granger?” His eyebrows twitched with confusion for a moment but he smiled. 

“Force of habit, I guess.” He shrugged. “I don’t  _ always  _ call you Granger.” She scrunched up her nose in disbelief and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t always call me Draco.” 

“I only call you Malfoy when I’m mad at you.” 

“You call me Malfoy  _ all _ the time.” Hermione smirked and raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, do with that information what you will.” He rolled his eyes again but couldn’t stop a short laugh from escaping him. 

“Alright.” He licked his lips and grinned. “ _ Hermione. _ ” She tried to fight back a smile but failed, he looked so pleased with himself. 

“And none of this selfless, Hufflepuff, breaking-up nonsense.” She ran the fingers of her spare hand through his hair gently and he grabbed her wrist, holding her hand against him. “I won’t let you break my heart, Malfoy, just because you think it’s the right thing to do.” He let go of both her hands, pulling his fingers from hers but keeping his eyes on her face for a moment. Then he was leaning in slowly, palms bracketing her cheeks and a small smile on his lips already as he kissed her more softly than he ever had before. 

It was certainly more than a peck but nowhere near the desperate snogs she’d been receiving the last few days. She pressed herself closer to him, her own hands gripping his forearm and the back of his neck in attempts to hold him closer, to stop him from pulling away. She had a sudden dangerous impulse to pull him even closer and apparate away, somewhere without patients and healers and the ever present danger of an interruption from Harry. Somewhere where potions that stopped him from loving her didn’t exist. It was a selfish notion, not to mention somewhat morally dubious, and she tried to force it back. He pulled back and studied her. 

“You’ll tell me if you get bored of me one day?” He said softly, tucking a lock of her behind her ear. 

“I’m not going to get  _ bored. _ ” He looked skeptical and Hermione sighed, reaching for the hand still framing her face. “You are many things, but you are not boring.” 

“You’re literally wasting your Saturday in a hospital waiting for me right now.” 

“Well, first of all, it’s a Monday.” She shrugged off the implications of her honesty, the healers could be running in with a miraculous potion any minute now. “And second of all, let me say in all honesty, I’d happily spend days-  _ weeks _ waiting around for you.” 

“You wouldn’t miss work?” She went to shake her head and then shrugged. 

“That’s what owls are for.” He hummed through a small smile and then pressed another kiss to her lips. She pulled him closer by the collar of his pyjamas, running her tongue along his lips. He reciprocated almost immediately, making that low humming noise in his throat and shifting his hand from the spot on her cheek into her hair. His tongue flicked against hers for a fraction of a second before he stood up suddenly, leaving her panting a little. He ran a hand through his hair, still not looking at her as he poked his head out the curtains. 

“Do you think the healer will be here soon?” He rolled up the sleeves on his pyjama shirt, a button up that looked vaguely similar to every shirt in his dresser, as he turned back to her. He raised an eyebrow and licked at the corner of his lips absentmindedly as Hermione sat somewhat awkwardly on the edge of his bed, still reeling a little. “Did you bring my wand?” Hermione had no answers, presumably his wand was with his clothes and belongings from the day of the accident; either confiscated for Harry’s case or stored somewhere in the hospital.

“I can go find-” Hermione’s bumbling excuse was interrupted as Draco’s healer, smiling like Hermione had never seen her, whipped the curtains open with her wand. She’d have to buy her a fruit basket or something, maybe flowers. 

“If you could sit on the bed please, Mr Malfoy.” She spotted Hermione behind him and raised an eyebrow, sighed a little and then continued. Draco sat on the bed beside her, patting her knee with his hand. “Miss Granger, I think you’re free to go now.” The healer held up a small golden vial and shook it a little. Draco’s fingers tightened on Hermione’s leg, shifting up to her thigh a little as the healer stepped closer. 

“I think I’ll stay.” She shot a look at a deeply confused Draco. “If that’s alright?” The healer nodded, a little hesitantly, before summoning a chair to sit opposite them. 

“It’s up to you.” She leaned forward in her chair, rolling the vial between her fingers and looking at them both sternly. “Now, for legal reasons I need to give you a full explanation of your treatment. We need full consent for something as experimental as this and we can’t risk the blame of your condition after this.” 

“Experimental?” Draco's voice was measured even as his spine stiffened and his face twisted with concern for a second. The healer fixed her eyes on Hermione instead. 

“Are you sure about staying?” Hermione nodded quickly but avoided eye contact with Draco who looked between them frantically. “Alright.” She turned back to Draco and Hermione pulled his fingers from her thigh to grip his hand tightly. 

“Mr Malfoy, last Wednesday you were in an accident at work whilst working on some experimental potions. Due to this accident your brain has spent the last six days working through different ‘memories’.” She gestured quotation marks. “Other than yesterday when, through significant work, we managed to convince you of your condition. Your… condition has caused somewhat of a fabricated reality in your mind. From what we can tell as the potion works through your system it has made you live out different… events. The reality of these is up for debate, they could be from your imagination, visions of the future, any combination of things.” Draco’s hand was slightly sweaty now, his fingers gripping Hermione’s almost too tight as he blinked slowly at the healer. 

“From what we can tell, your last  _ real _ memories will be anywhere from the 3rd to the 5th of October 2004.” She pressed on, seemingly eager to get it all out at once. “Miss Granger has been here at your request everyday and for that I hope you’ll remain grateful.” Draco’s fingers loosened around Hermione’s and she swallowed back tears as he shifted down the bed, glaring at the floor with furrowed eyebrows. “This potion should renew you to your state of mind previous to the incident. We’re not sure yet how much of this week you’ll remember but we’re hoping you’ll recover fully. We’ve had our best people on your case for days now.” 

The healer finally stopped, holding out the vial and Draco looked up at her suddenly, jaw clenched and eyes a little teary. He took it from her and inspected it in the light. 

“What’s in it?” His last week in a practically vegetative state meant Hermione had almost forgotten his potions career, if it had been anyone else he’d probably have been working on the antidote himself. She’d seen his efforts within St Mungos before; his work on the Longbottom’s case had practically been legendary in his field. She winced internally at the irony. 

“We worked it as an antidote to the original potion, along with some healing factors. I can find you the ingredients and instructions if you like?” The healer replied, a little eager for his professional attention. He chuckled. 

“Let’s see if it works first.” He attempted a small smile, turned to look at Hermione for a second and then looked back at the healer. “Could we just have a moment?” The healer nodded, pushed her chair back and closed the curtains. Hermione looked up at the ceiling and let out a shaky breath as Draco stood to pace in front of her for a moment. When he finally spoke it was much softer than she expected. 

“If you’ve been anything like this morning for the rest of the week then maybe you’d make a better Slytherin than I thought.” Hermione’s own voice got stuck in her throat at his teasing, she resolutely kept her eyes away from him even as he stopped his pacing to stand in front of her. “I won’t pretend to completely understand everything she said but if we are not- not what I thought we were… I am sorry you’ve been dragged into this, Granger.” Her breath hitched at his measured tones and casual use of her last name, he hadn’t even taken the potion yet and he had already slipped back into himself so quickly. At her stifled sob he rushed to kneel next to her, grabbing her hand. “I am so sorry.” She shook her head and finally looked down at him, wiping her eyes quickly.. He studied her with trepidation and she took the time to study his features close up, absorbing the look of worship in his eyes and the warmth of his hands. Then she made a decision. 

“If I asked you out, once you’re back to normal, would it be too ridiculous?” She said slowly but surely. He simply blinked at her for a moment before his face split into a grin. “You probably won’t remember any of-“ 

“You should. Definitely.” He nodded, smirking a little. “I’m still me. No matter how awful I may have been, or am now, I guess, for you. Ask. No matter how much I remember.” She nodded and for a moment they just smiled at each other. 

“Where?” She hooked her pinky finger around his. 

“Hmm?” He looked down at their hands and then back at her, still grinning wildly. 

“Where should I take you?” Her voice was lightly teasing. “On our date?” She couldn’t stop grinning. 

“Wherever you want. Just make me pay.” 

“You must know I won’t do that.” 

“Worth a try.” They grinned at each other like idiots for a moment. 

There was a shuffling of the curtains and they both turned to see Harry, poking his head through with the healer right behind him. Hermione pulled her hand from Draco’s and for a moment he reached to grab it again. Then he looked between her and the red-faced Potter approaching them and stepped away quickly. Harry struggled with words for a second. 

“I’m not going to sue the ministry. If that’s what this is about, Potter.” Draco’s words had a little bite but he smirked at the end. He held up the vial still clutched in his hand and shook it. “I’m just about to take it.” Hermione stood up to stand beside Harry who absentmindedly patted her on the back. The healer pushed past them, arranging the sheets on the bed and putting secure protective wards on the curtains. 

“It would probably be best if you took it sitting on the bed, it should send you straight to sleep to allow your brain to work through it.” The healer said and Hermione pulled her eyes away from Malfoy for the first time.

Draco nodded, grimaced a little and then looked at Hermione. He stepped forward quickly and for a moment she prepared herself for the kind of unexpected life-shaking kiss she was perfectly aware he was capable of. Instead he pulled her close to him and rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her close enough to rest her cheek on his chest. Then he pressed a kiss to her forehead, nodded stiffly at Harry and sat on the edge of the bed. He sent a small wave in the Gryffindors’ direction and Harry waved back awkwardly before abruptly pulling Hermione out of the room. 

They sat silently, side by side, in the waiting room. Every so often Harry would push his glasses up his nose, open his mouth to say something and then snap it shut again once he made eye contact with Hermione. After about half an hour, once Hermione had finished counting the bricks on one wall and had started on the tiles of another, Harry cleared his throat. 

“It’s all a bit shit, isn’t it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write. There were about three different ways it could of gone and I wrestled with them for weeks. I hope you liked how it ended up! Let me know xx


	7. Day 7 and onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically one long conversation where I used the word sandwich too many times.

Draco was still wiping sleep from his eyes when she pulled open the curtains, cup of tea in hand. He finally noticed her and his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hi?” She stopped at the confusion in his voice.

“Hi.” She stayed poised at the end of the bed, tea still in hand. “How are you feeling?” He blinked at her twice, then looked around quickly. 

“Fine. Great.” She nodded but he kept talking. “I’m sorry, I must have missed something. Why are you here?” She blushed pink. “I’m not, you know,  _ upset _ . I just-” He didn’t remember, the healer had warned her of that but she still wasn’t prepared. 

“Oh. Of course. Sorry-” She took a step back and he sat up straighter before looking down at himself, confused again. 

“No, it’s fine. I just-” 

“You banged your head and-”

“-it’s really nice of you to take the time out of your day but-” 

“-there was this whole thing with Harry-” 

“-I’m not actually sure what day it is but-” The curtains opened and Narcissa Malfoy, in all her grace and beauty, rushed to his side. They both fell silent and Hermione took another step back away from the bed. As his mother kissed him on both cheeks and then tried to fix his hair he blushed almost as pink as Hermione, avoiding her gaze successfully. Once Narcissa started angrily muttering he cleared his throat and nodded in Hermione’s direction. Mrs Malfoy seemed both unsurprised and unimpressed by her presence. 

“Miss Granger, it’s lovely to see you again so soon.” Hermione could do nothing but nod as over Narcissa’s shoulder Draco looked between the two wildly. She snapped herself back into reality and moved to stand on the other side of the bed from Narcissa, Draco watching her every step with anxious trepidation. 

“I- ummm.” She held the tea cup out. “I brought you tea, your healer suggested it.” He looked up at her and blinked obnoxiously for a second before taking it from her. 

“Thank you.” She watched him grimace in preparation as he lifted the cup to his lips the first time. Then his eyebrows rose in shock and he swallowed. She tried to play down her grin as he turned to her. “This is really good. How did you-” Narcissa dragged a nearby chair along the floor, interrupting them once again. They both watched with pink cheeks and slight smiles as she sat perfectly poised in the chair and flipped open a copy of The Daily Prophet to read an article entitled  _ Unspeakables Speak Out on Safety Issues in the Workplace.  _ She raised her head to nod at Hermione once and then returned to her reading. 

“So- I’ll probably just-” Hermione wrung her hands together behind her back as Draco turned to look up at her again. “Go, now.” She nodded at him and tried a grin. “I hope you’re feeling better.” He nodded back to her, the smile at the corner of his mouth dropping when she turned to leave, 

“Wait. Granger. I- um.” Hermione stepped back towards him. “I was going to owl you. After, the party.” He dared a look at his mother who remained still in her chair other than a single quirk of her eyebrow. He turned back to Hermione. “I was thinking of bringing flowers to your office or chocolates or something but then-” He gestured around vaguely. Narcissa coughed pointedly. 

“It’s alright.” Hermione shrugged and Draco looked at her with a little concern. “It-” She swallowed. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.” She shrugged again and he looked almost amused for a second before his face fell. 

“Well, if you’re sure.” She nodded frantically and he looked down at his hands and then back up, mouth opening and closing for a couple of moments. “You- you weren’t waiting too long? This morning, I mean.” Hermione shook her head. 

“No. No, of course not.” She took a deep breath and ignored the outright smirk on Narcissa’s face. “Just- Harry mentioned that you might want company when you woke up.” Narcissa closed the article, rolling her eyes. “That’s not an issue though so I’ll just-”

“I didn’t miss anything important did I?” He’s studying her closely now, eyes darting to her nervous hands and shuffling feet. She almost laughed out loud, instead she shook her head quickly. “Good. Good.” He grinned at her like he knew something she didn’t, she was rather sure it was the opposite for just this once. “I’ll see you at work then.” She nodded, smiled and then threw a wave at Narcissa who simply hummed in reply. She closed the curtains behind her and ignored Narcissa’s somewhat malicious-sounding laughter. 

  
  


She’d decided it wasn’t the right time to tell him, newly conscious and just coming out of a week long battle with an extremely complex potion. She almost convinced herself to turn back, halfway down the corridor, to tell him he’d left his wand in the cupboard beside the hospital bed or to remind Narcissa that his memory of the last few days may return in dribs and drabs. But it wasn’t her job, she wasn’t his keeper and now sure wasn’t the time to become it. It wasn’t the right time on his first day back to work either. Or in the lift on his second when she pressed herself into the corner so he wouldn’t spot her. Or in the canteen on the third day when he approached Harry to shake his hand and Hermione ducked under the table a few feet away. Definitely not at any point during the fifteen minutes on his fourth day when she paced back and forth outside his office for the entirety of her break. On the fifth day, after spending the morning reminding herself of which stairs to use so she wouldn’t run into him, her secretary brought in a pile of documents and handed her a note with a blush. 

To the sexy witch, 

I feel like we got off to a bad start. Drunken hookups and awkward hospital conversations with my mother aside; we should have lunch. You remember where my office is, don’t you?

Draco 

The hour until lunch was painfully long and the seven minutes she spent waiting outside his office, sandwich and apple in hand, was even worse. Draco finally appeared down the hallway, carrying a tray from the cafeteria and he waved when he spotted her. He jogged a little to meet her, almost toppling the contents of the tray, before he stopped a few feet from her and just grinned for a moment. Then he shook his head at her in an endearing fashion and held the door open for her, nodding her inside. He slid into his chair across from her, chuckling a little as her eyes flicked between his bookshelf and desk. 

“Sorry, we couldn’t do this sooner.” He gestured to the chair across from him and she sat down quickly, holding her lunch in her lap for a second before placing it on the table awkwardly. “I’ve had meetings with Potter all week about this bloody potion.” He leaned back in his seat and pulled his wand from his pocket, placing it on the desk beside his tray of food. “Apparently the Wizengamot would prefer it if I simply resigned quietly, with compensation.” He grinned at her and leaned over the table conspiratorially. “Between you and me, Malfoy’s are more used to being on the other end of bribery, so I’m not quite sure what to do.” Something finally clicked in Hermione’s brain and she sat up in her seat. 

“Oh, well if that’s what you needed I can help actually. The Wizengamot has an unfortunate history of abusing power, I’m certain I can find a pattern of silencing employees-” Her eyebrows furrowed as she inspected his wand on the table between them. 

“Granger.” 

“-especially considering your department. I mean they mostly use you for scare-mongering which means your cases are more difficult for-” 

“Hermione.” He said it almost sternly and it did something to the butterflies in her stomach especially when she looked up to see him smiling. “You don’t have to worry about it.” 

“Malfoy, it’s basically my job to-" He raised an eyebrow. 

“I know, and I’ll book a meeting with your secretary on Monday” She nodded and opened her mouth to say something but he shook his head. “But for now it’s the end of an exhausting week and I’m fucking starving so-” He gestured at their lunches and then sat up to inspect his own. 

He wasn’t even looking at her as he grabbed the unfortunate orange jelly placed next to his sandwich and she held back a laugh at his slight grumble. He immediately handed it to her and their fingers brushed as she reached out automatically to take it. He froze, looking between her and the pot for a second, sucking in a deep breath. His eyes narrowed and he glared at where their fingers were touching before running one against her ring finger. “Oh.” He let out the breath and looked back up to her eyes, her smile lost from her face. 

“Fuck.” He murmured, lowering his hand to the desk and clenching it into a fist. “Shit.” He leant over the desk, face in his hands. “I’m sorry I just had the weirdest-” Hermione regained her Gryffindor courage and placed the pot on the desk between them before reaching out a hand to rub up and down his forearm, a trick he’d taught her, circling with her thumb in soothing patterns. He looked up at her for a moment, eyes wide and pupils blown.

Suddenly he grabbed her hand, practically stood up to stretch himself further across the table to meet her and slipped her bottom lip between his. He held her face there, his fingers once again tightening in the hair above her left ear, simply pressing their lips together. Hermione’s own hand raised to his face, barely grazing his jaw before he was pushing her back into her seat. He pushed himself back from the desk, standing straight up and shaking his head. He planted a tight smile on his face and ran a hand through his hair, forcing out a chuckle to lift the mood as Hermione watched him inquisitively. 

“Sorry. Must be something about this room.” He paced back and forth a little, rubbing the spot above his eyebrow as he squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head. “I mean, I’m sorry. That was-”

“Draco.” 

“I don’t know what happened I just- I had a-” He swallowed heavily and looked at her for a moment.

“It’s alright.” He chuckled at that and ran a hand through his hair, sitting back down on the edge of his seat. 

“Trust me. It’s not alright. If you knew what-” He ran his fingers through his hair and then sighed into his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Did the healers not-” He looked up at her almost angrily. 

“The healers said I might get back some memories of the week I was in hospital, Granger. Not whatever-” He let out a deep breath. “These are not my memories.” She cocked her head and he looked at her with confusion. 

“They might be.” He shook his head and she sighed, reaching out for him. His fingers just grazed her own before pulling back quickly. 

“See- that- that’s not- we don’t-” She pulled her hand back from him and leaned back in her seat. Maybe he  _ was _ remembering all of it and was now disgusted. Maybe he was remembering something different. Maybe he just  _ really _ didn’t want to have lunch with her. 

“What do you remember?” She looked at him with wide eyes and what she hoped was a comforting smile. 

“You came to see me in the hospital. Didn’t you?” She nodded and he hummed, sitting up in his seat and tapping his fingers on the desk. “Not just the day I woke up.” 

“You remember all of that-” She cleared her throat. “All six days?” When she finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes they were slightly mischievous, like he was replaying certain moments in his mind. He shook his head and smiled. 

“It’s strange, I can remember those days. I remember what I  _ thought _ on those days.” He blushed for a second and looked up at the ceiling. Then he squinted. “But I can also see the gaps in my logic, the things that didn't really work out properly.” He looked back at her abruptly. “What's your mothers name?” She was taken aback and it took her a moment.

“Julie.” There was questioning in her tone but he ignored it. Instead his eyebrows rose and he chuckled to himself. 

“My guess would’ve been completely wrong. I knew I should have known it but-”

“It wasn’t real.” The words got caught in her throat but she pushed them out. He grimaced. 

“Exactly.” They sat in silence for a minute, Hermione shifting in her chair as she started unwrapping her sandwich. Malfoy switched between watching her with wide eyes to looking around the room with absentminded confusion on his face. She took a bite of her sandwich and he watched as she chewed, waiting for her to swallow before he said anything. “Are you pregnant?” She placed the sandwich on her desk, clasped her hands together and looked at him seriously. 

“No.” He sighed and nodded before letting a look of mischief cross his face.

“You seem surprisingly calm.” He stretched his arms behind his head, pulling at the hair there for a moment as he looked at her with his tongue pressed in his cheek. “Most witches would be offended.”

“I’ve already had my pregnancy scare for the week, Draco.” His eyes bugged a little. “So maybe let’s not skip the contraceptive charm next time?” He choked on nothing, coughing into his hand as he bent over the desk a little. She smirked at the sight of him blushing madly. Then he looked back up at her, eyes still slightly watery and grinned right back. 

“Next time?” She rolled her eyes and decided that the way the light reflected off her apple required inspection. He seemed to take her silence as a win and picked up his own sandwich, he opened his mouth to take a bite but paused. “And we’re definitely not married?” She held up her empty ring finger the way she’d normally present her middle one. He nodded, still looking pleased with himself. He took the bite of his sandwich, looking off into the corner of the room and squinting like he was trying to remember something. He chewed quickly. 

“You were meant to ask me on a date, weren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t ask other details about his last day; like why she’d almost cried and why she’d been there in the first place if she knew he was taking the potion. 

“We discussed it.” He seemed to stiffen at that and put his sandwich down to look at her intently. 

“If you just said that to appease-” He laced his fingers together, resting them on the table in front of him as he slipped into the position of  _ colleague _ over… whatever they were. 

“I didn’t. I want to.” She interrupted him before he could ask her politely to leave the room and eat her lunch on her own. He still looked suspiciously at her. 

“Really?” She nodded eagerly and he rubbed at his jaw. He hummed a little as he looked around the room once more. Her hands turned sweaty and she pressed them into her knees, watching as he unlaced his fingers again. 

“Do you- do you not want to?” She said it softly but firmly, already listing the ways she could blame this on Ginny and her closted romantic tendencies. He dragged his eyes away from the corner of the ceiling behind her head. 

“What?” He looked like a deer in headlights and then fixed her with a sheepish grin. “Oh. Sorry umm-” She was already nodding, gulping back something that felt suspiciously like tears. 

“Oh,” She started pushing her chair back. “That’s o-”

“No!” He shook his head and reached to her for a second before pulling his hand back. “I mean.” He took a deep breath. “No, I do want to, sorry. I was distracted.” She looked at him with confusion. “Did I try to kidnap Potter’s child?” She chuckled and then remembered quite vividly how at ease he’d looked shirtless with a baby climbing all over him. Her cheeks warmed suddenly and she shifted in her chair. 

“I don’t really remember that day in particular-” He coughed out a chuckle of his own. 

“I do!” He tapped his chin in deep thought and then his eyes lit up. “Didn’t you try to shag me in a  _ hospital _ ?” He faked disappointed shock, mouth wide open in surprise. She ignored his playful teasing and looked at him acutely. 

“The hospital? That's what you’re worried about? Not the moral implications of me trying to…” She didn’t finish the thought, instead gesturing broadly and she felt her cheeks grow even hotter. 

“You know what, for once I  _ am _ worried about the moral implications.” He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head again. “There was another patient in that room.” She raised her eyebrows at him and sighed. 

“You know that’s not what I meant. You weren’t in your right mind.” He shrugged, and it annoyed her for a second how casual he was being. “I mean you have to see it as at least an invasion of privacy.” He sighed loudly and she paused the long tirade about double standards and medical responsibility. 

“I thought we were trying for a baby at the time.” Her eyes flicked to his and then they both looked away at once. “It would’ve been weird if you weren’t trying to shag me.” She smiled a little at that and nodded, making eye contact with him again. He tried to smirk at her but ended up grinning instead. They both started eating their sandwiches again, looking at each other every now and then and then looking away again like they were blushing teenagers. 

“I broke into your flat.” She said between bites and he stopped chewing for a moment, just staring at her. Then he swallowed, dropped his sandwich onto the tray and sat back to think for a moment.

“See, that’s new. I don’t remember that.” She put her own sandwich down and put her face in her hands. She sighed and felt his eyes still watching her. 

“No, while you were in hospital.” She glanced up at him. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw for a second. Then he let out a deep breath.

“Find anything interesting?” The corner of his lips twitched into a smile which he tried to tone down. 

“This isn’t funny.” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. 

“I’m assuming that’s where all the clothes and tea came from?” She nodded but continued. 

“Malfoy, you can’t really be ok with-” He shook his head. 

“You called me Draco earlier.” 

“I’m not having this fight with you again.” He said nothing, instead he grinned and took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly as he studied her. Then he pushed the orange jelly back towards her. She’d almost forgotten about it.

“I’m not going to eat your lunch, Malfoy.” He pouted slightly and then rolled his eyes. 

“Just eat the jelly.” She took it and held it loosely in her hand. 

“There’s no spoon.” He picked his wand up, muttered a spell and then handed her a spoon. She took it almost guiltily. She peeled open the jelly pot and inspected it for a second. “Why do you hate the flavour so much?” He contemplated for a moment, smirked and then rested his chin on his fist. 

“Is that what this is about?” She looked at him, confused. “I’m still going to kiss you, even if you taste like orange.” He pulled a slightly disgusted face but powered through. 

“That’s not-” The hand lifting the spoon to her chin faltered as he raised an eyebrow, tongue flicking out to his lips just enough to distract her. 

“I wasn’t-” He settled back in his chair and looked her up and down.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” He grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m still going to have the last chapter as a short kind of epilogue but I’m playing with the idea of a sequel; them actually living out the days that he’d imagined but in this reality. It’d probably have to move up a rating and would be around 5-6 chapters. If there’s no interest in it then no worries but let me know. :D


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kind of short. I’ve started the sequel though and the first chapter should be up any day! X

The Halloween Party was considerably subdued the following year. The fallout of the last party had included a broken lift, an unexpected pregnancy and at least five misdemeanours on Ministry property. The day after had been even worse; five high standing officials had arrived at work still drunk and interrupted the trial of a well known and prominent Death Eater. As a result, the Minister himself had scheduled the party on a Friday and gave the bar strict instructions to serve ‘mocktails’ and soft drinks only. Harry Potter himself later admitted that he’d rather battle the dark lord once again than sit, perfectly sober, in a crowded room with his colleagues. 

The Sexy Witch costume made another appearance that year after small amounts of emotional bribery and something that sounded very much like begging from the new Head of the Department of Mysteries. He himself was dressed in something he didn’t entirely understand, the decision had been made whilst he was focused on what he considered to be more  _ important  _ matters and by the time Hermione had climbed back off his lap he had forgotten to clarify. Potter, dressed as himself for the third year in a row, had squinted at him for a moment before laughing loudly. Malfoy resolutely ignored him and attempted to appear unperturbed as he pulled at the lycra costume and glanced around for a familiar head of curls bobbing in the crowd. 

“Hi.” She had appeared beside him, grinning wildly, with the small witches hat balanced precariously in her cloud of hair. He barely opened his mouth to reply when she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd. He nodded at colleagues on the way, well aware of how ridiculous he looked in whatever muggle costume he was wearing as he was dragged by a witch almost half a foot shorter than him. 

She finally stopped when they reached the corner of the hall, right by the doors. She spun around to face him and giggled, threading her fingers through his as she continued to chuckle. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked around helplessly. He squinted at her. 

“Granger…” She’d let go of one of his hands to run her fingers up and down his chest. “Are you-” He looked around again, grimacing and nodding to the Minister as he passed. Hermione looped one arm around Draco’s neck to pull his face down to her level. “Hi...” 

“Hi.” Her breath was hot on his lips and he watched as her pupils expanded even more. 

“Are you drunk, Granger?” He whispered conspiratorially, raising an eyebrow. She shushed him loudly and then giggled once again. “You are! I leave you alone for an hour-” She shook her head and her curls hit him across the face. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and steered her further into the corner of the room. She stopped giggling, her lips slightly parted as she just looked up at him. He swallowed heavily. “How did you-” She pulled the small bag off her shoulder and he slid his hands down to her waist, totally unbothered by how close they were standing. She pulled the neck of a bottle, too big to have physically fit within the purse, out and his jaw dropped open for a second. He closed it quickly and then watched as she pulled the rest of the half empty bottle of Blishen’s firewhisky out. 

“Do you want some?” She started unscrewing the lid and he scowled for a moment before shaking his head in what he hoped was an endearing fashion. 

“Did you steal that from my desk?” She tried to fight a smirk as she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” He took the bottle from her and swallowed down a mouthful, keeping eye contact with her as he did so. She watched him with wide eyes and then took it back from him to sip at it herself. They passed it back and forth a few more times. “It’s really good whisky.” She said with a finality as she handed him the bottle, now standing shoulder to shoulder in the corner and leaning on each other. 

“Hmmm.” He looks pleased with himself. “Only took a year of dating to convince you.” She tried to take the bottle back from him again but he shook his head and kept swigging from it by himself. She scoffed drily and then leaned against the wall again. 

“We haven’t been dating for a year.” He rolled his eyes and then squinted into near distance, counting on his fingers. 

“11 months and three weeks then.” He held up the bottle to her and tipped his head to her. “Happy Anniversary.” She hummed contently and then nodded seriously. He finished off the bottle and handed it back to her, the buzz from the alcohol distracting him from the conundrum of her sliding the bottle back into a purse too small for it. 

“You know it actually is the anniversary of something.” She moved to stand directly in front of him, between his leafs as his back pressed into the wall. He raised an eyebrow and flicked the hat on her head before sliding his hands down to her hips. 

“Really?” He tugged her closer. 

“Well, unless I’m mistaken.” A small smirk was playing on her lips and she tugged at his costume a little. 

“Which is extremely unlikely.” 

“Last year was the first time we...” She trailed off and he furrowed his eyebrows. “The first time you…” She tried to gesture something but gave up quickly, just waving the words off into the air. “-showed me your office.” He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment. 

“Oh! Ohhhh.” He nodded. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. 

“And I was thinking- maybe we could visit again. For old times sake.” She looked at him pointedly but he turned confused again. 

“We had lunch in there eight hours ago.” He bit the inside of his cheek as she turned pink. He’d been thinking about how to have this exact conversation with her at lunch. Whilst propositioning his girlfriend really shouldn't require preparation, playing Slytherin and getting her to proposition him did. And was entirely worth it. 

“That’s not- that’s not  _ exactly _ what I meant.” She studied him closely. “I was thinking more along the lines of- well- you know last week when you did that-” He snorted at that and she stopped her verbal meandering to fix him with what he’d dubbed  _ The McGonagall Look. _ “Draco Malfoy you are such a-” 

“Yeah. I know.” He slid his hands down to squeeze her arse for a second, grinning at the squeaking sound she made, before standing up straight and grabbing her by the hand. Once again he pulled her down the corridor, almost giddy with happiness. This time she caught up with him quickly and then abruptly pushed him against the wall mere metres from his office, quite literally jumping on him. He grinned against her mouth as the cool of the tiles soaked through his thin costume and then pulled his face from hers to laugh at the sound she made when his hand finally made it up her skirt. 

They finally made it to his office, lipstick staining both their mouths much to Hermione’s satisfaction, and had their obligatory fight about lighting (Malfoy: Pro, Granger: Con) rather quickly. She quickly found herself studying the ceiling of his office once again, something she’d found herschel doing more and more recently. His head popped into view once again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and they grinned at each other for a moment. She sucked in a breath, the thought of him looking at her for the rest of their lives clutched at her chest. The fact that he seemed half absorbed by that fantasy already did nothing to help the feeling. She pulled his face down to meet hers and he captured her lips once more. 

~

Harry Potter, much too sober and much too tired, regretted his position on the Party Committee. Other members were now sweeping away the remains of the party, streamers and sweets and cake, from the floor of the hall. He had drawn the short straw and was now pulling open office doors to weed out any left over party goers and nonsensical couples. Whilst the Lovegood-Zabini baby was adorable, the Ministry as a government body would like to be less aware of how he came about. Harry stared at the door of Malfoy’s office for almost five minutes, tapping his foot and thinking very hard about exactly how fragile his friendship currently was with the blond. Then he knocked on the door and spoke loudly. 

“Party’s over, folks.” 

Then someone inside made a breathy giggle and he paled. 

“Fuck off, Potter.” A low, slightly growling voice. 

“Don’t be mean.” Undeniably Hermione’s voice reprimanding. 

“I’m not being-” A deep sigh no doubt punctuated by a glare from Hermione. “What did you need?” Harry grinned to himself. 

“Just checking that you’re all up to date on contraceptive charms.” 

A moment of awkward silence, another sigh. 

“Fuck off, Harry.” Both voices in frustrated harmony. 

He snorted out a laugh then left quickly. Not quite quick enough to miss Malfoy’s mutter. 

“Bloody sexy witch.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s done!!!! Well sort of lol   
> I hope you’ll read the sequel once it’s up! Xx


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